


A string that led me to you

by chocolate_crisps



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bodyswap, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Genderfluid Pidge | Katie Holt, Inspired by Kimi no Na wa. | Your Name., M/M, Minor Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), Not Really Character Death, One-Sided Attraction, Pining Lance (Voltron), Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolate_crisps/pseuds/chocolate_crisps
Summary: Lance was a simple boy, living an ordinary life in the big city, trying to find his place in life and get Allura out on a date. That was until one day he found out that he switches body with Keith, his peer from a little town who wants nothing but to escape from there.Seeing no other way, they try to survive the phenomena by exchanging their live as they along it learn more about themselves and how complicated the feelings are. But will that knowledge be enough when you have to save a life?A Kimi no na wa/ Your name au that no one asked for but I did
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	A string that led me to you

**Author's Note:**

> Beware, the author has tendencies to add a lot of references and weird humor. If you’re not afraid, you can scroll down and try to find them all  
> Also, big thanks go to [whimsical chocolate](https://whimsical-chocolate.tumblr.com/) who survived beting it and my inability to write in English. I'm sorry your eyes had to see it all

_Sometimes, when I wake up, I have tears in my eyes. Like leftovers from a dream I can never recall._

_But-_

_But the sensation of a loss-_

_-stays with me long after I wake up._

_It’s like - like I’m always searching-_

_-for something, or for someone._

_If I were to guess-_

_-this feeling-_

_-lingers with me since **that** day._

_The day when the stars came falling down. It all was like-_

_-just like-_

_-a very beautiful dream._

~*~

*Beep*Beep*

The phone alarm rang mercilessly, reminding Lance that he had to wake up and go to school. The sunbeams said the same, peeking into his room through the curtains. With a groan, he reached out blindly to turn off the alarm, sitting up begrudgingly. He looked down, only just noticing the tears falling from his eyes and staining his pajama pants and sheets. That was weird - he hadn’t had any encounter yesterday bad enough to make him cry. Also, why didn’t he have a shirt on?

Before he could ponder more on these mysteries, the door to his room opened slightly, enough for one blue eye to peek inside.

“Are you okay?” asked Rachel, her voice trepidatious.

“Hmm?” was all that Lance’s just-awoken brain could muster. It seemed to be the right answer, because Rachel simply sighed, pulling the door open wider.

“Breakfast is ready. Hurry up!” And with that, she slammed the door shut, leaving Lance alone to prepare for the day.

Groaning, he stood up from his bed, directing his steps towards his wardrobe and looking into the mirror. It was at this moment that Lance was overwhelmed by the greatest horror he had ever encountered in his life. His face was brown.

It shouldn’t be that surprising or horrifying since he was born with a dark complexion, but he could swear on the life of his entire family that he had applied a face mask last night! And it had been green! He should have been able to see it! Now his skin would be ruined.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa~!”

When his panic finally subsided, which took all of his willpower and three minutes of incessant screaming, Lance quickly put on his ugly, orange uniform. Setting his mind on his daily goal - survive and return - he stepped into the kitchen, quickly grabbing everyone’s attention.

His parents, grandma, and sister looked at him warily, inexplicably scanning his face. It wasn’t like he did anything stupid yesterday. He just went to school with Hunk and Pidge, survived his lessons, hung out with them later, and came back. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Erm, good morning?”

“...” They kept staring at him, as though they were expecting more. Lance decided to simply ignore his family’s odd behaviour and sat down in his chair, pouring honey into his tea before taking a bite out of his fried hawaiian bread and eggs.

“I told you - he’s normal again,” his sister said, nudging their mother with an elbow.

“Rachel!”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, swallowing down his food and tilting his head at the same time. “I’m always me - only slightly less gorgeous today, for which I blame the horrendous lack of essential overnight skin care.”

“He’s back,” his father sighed, relaxing and turning another page of his newspaper.

“Come on! What’s wrong with you guys?!”

“Eat up, Lance,” his mother said, finishing the remnants of her coffee and standing up. “I don’t want you to be late again.”

Lies and blasphemy! He was never late. Lance had a clever comeback that died the moment he glanced back at the clock. Choking on his sandwich and making Rachel laugh along the way, he swallowed down what he had on his plate as quickly as possible, running towards the door with bag in hand. His sister followed shortly after, in a much prettier blue uniform. He was always jealous that her art school had such cute colors while he was stuck with stupid orange. Why, out of all possible colors, did they have to choose this one?! It didn’t even look good with his complexion!

“Have a good day!” Rachel waved to him as she jumped onto her train. Shortly afterwards, the doors shut and her figure, mingling with the other passengers, disappeared from his sight.

Since Lance still had some time before his train came, he pulled out his phone. Huh, that was weird. He could have sworn that today should have been the 14th, not the 15th. Whatever - everyone makes mistakes. Before he could give it any more thought, his train arrived. Lance jumped inside, regretting it immediately. Being sandwiched between people could be funny in cartoons, but not here. He couldn’t take out his phone, or even a notebook to quickly scan his notes. It probably wouldn’t help him much, but at least he could say he tried!

Ten minutes later, he got off at his station. Glancing at the giant clock above his head, Lance let out a sigh of relief. He still had twenty minutes to spare and his walk to school wouldn’t take more than fifteen. Score!

Getting off the platform, back on the streets, a familiar voice called his name accompanied by a laugh and the rattling of a bike chain.

“Lance!” Pushing down the pedals, Hunk pulled up alongside his friend, almost unseating Pidge, who was perched in his basket. They said nothing, evidently deciding that a disappointed glare was more than enough to express their animosity. No one asked them to sit in the basket, so it was all on them. Today, she had put on a skirt as a part of their uniform with leggings underneath.

“Hey Lance!” She greeted him as well, adjusting her butt more firmly on the handlebars. “As long as it’s you today.”

“Hi Pidge, Hunk.” Lance sent them his signature toothy smile and finger guns. Hunk sent them back, although cautiously, while Pidge simply rolled her eyes. “Who else could it be?”

The two looked at each other, a silent understanding flowing between them, leaving Lance out of the loop. “He’s back.”

“What?! Why is everyone acting like I was abducted by aliens or something?”

“Nice! I didn’t think of that one.” Pidge nodded appreciatively. “Hunk! Add it to the list!”

“I’m still leaning more towards possession,” Hunk mumbled, writing in his notebook, still pedaling. Lance was more than a little concerned about his friend’s health. The fact that the bike was winding like the line of a mountain creek didn’t help. “Speaking of, did your grandma perform her voodoo mumbo-jumbo exorcism on you?”

“Guys, really, what do you mean?”

Two pairs of brown eyes stared at him owlishly in disbelief.

“You don’t remember? Yesterday you were acting like a different person. Your hair was a mess, you growled at everyone, and you almost threw a knife at one guy!”

“WHAT?!”

“McClain!”

Gulping down saliva, Lance turned his head towards the voice. A group of upperclassmen slowly approached them, anger clear on their faces.

“Told you it was a bad idea,” Pidge mumbled, kicking punishingly at Lance’s shoulder in frustration. He felt so lost, given the bizarre situation he had been thrown into, that he didn’t even yelp.

“You think you’re so tough, huh?” The leader of the group caught him by the jacket. “If you try to do that again, I’ll kill you! No stupid farm boy is going to stop me. Understood?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Good.” The guy finally let go of his jacket, leaving Lance alone and going back to his friends. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you.”

“See?” Pidge sung, wiggling her legs. “Don’t throw knives at strangers.”

“What the hell happened yesterday?”

Despite everything his friends told him, Lance still could hardly believe what they were saying. Messy hair? Hardly, but it was possible.

But the rest? Yelling at everyone (including teachers!?), forgetting names, not responding to his own, starting fights, kicking the ball in PE so hard that it broke the teacher’s nose ... that wasn’t him. Even his family was wary of him, as though he could snap at any second and punch them in the eye. And all of it after he had this weird dream about-

About ...

Huh, what _did_ he dream about? It was all … fuzzy.

As the day went on, things got even weirder. Lance was never one to take excessive notes in class, but he did try his best. However, his notebook didn’t have any notes after the 13th, only a bunch of scribbles and sketches stretching over four whole pages. Constellations of stars, planets, dogs, and even his peers were inked into his notebook with red pen. They were good, and Lance was sure he couldn’t have drawn them. Rachel was the artist of family, not him. She must have stolen it and added all of this. He decided then and there that he was going to kill her.

When he turned the last page, he found something different. There were no sketches or weird symbols, just one question written vertically across the whole page with the same red ink:

Who are you?

Okay, that was another strange thing today. It wasn’t his handwriting, or that of anyone he knew. Lance seriously started to consider asking his grandma for an exorcism. This shit wasn’t normal.

“Lance McClain,” the teacher said his name, causing him to jump in his seat. “Can you do the third exercise?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, so today you _do_ remember your name.”

As if on cue, the rest of his classmates started to laugh, leaving a very confused Lance to figure it all out.

~*~

*Beep*Beep*

The alarm on his phone rang loudly, forcing Keith to awaken. With only a bit of grumbling, he opened his eyes and sat up, turning off his alarm. There was no need to slumber anymore; school awaited. The sooner he started the day, the sooner it would end.

Unable to suppress a yawn, Keith brought his hand to his face, only now noticing the blue ink on his palm. Weird, he didn’t remember writing cheat notes for a test. Focusing his sleepy eyes against the morning light, he made out the letters.

“Lance?” Keith tilted his head to the side, trying his hardest to find any sort of connection. “Like...a weapon? What was I thinking?”

“Keith!” his mother’s voice called from across the house. “Hurry up! Breakfast is getting cold!” Deciding to figure it out later, Keith stood up, ready to get dressed.

Ten minutes later and clad in his regular clothes, he went downstairs to join his mother in the kitchen. She was already finished, with her bag in hand, and ready to leave.

“Hi.”

“You overslept. It was your turn to make breakfast.”

“Uh? No, it’s tomorrow.”

“It was today. Don’t worry, I’ve prepared a bit. Eat up. And go to school, even if you happen to be late,” she reprimanded him, hand on the doorknob. “Aren’t you going to brush your hair today?”

“You know I never do that.”

His mother stared at him for a long second before finally turning the knob. “See you in the evening.”

“Yeah, bye!”

Still getting used to being awake, Keith took a bite out of one of waffles, gulping down black coffee from his other hand; it created the perfect mixture of sweet breakfast and bitter reality. His puppy nudged his leg under the table, silently begging for leftovers.

“Hi, buddy.” Keith scratched it’s head, giving away a bit of his waffle. The puppy accepted it happily, munching it in its tiny jaws. “I doubt you have any idea about this,” he said, looking again at his hand. Shrugging his shoulders, he took another waffle. “Well, whatever. Maybe I simply imagined new way of killing Griffin.”

“Woof!”

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

Finishing his food, Keith finally left home to go to school, late as usual. It’s not like he did it on purpose, he simply didn’t like sitting alone in his seat waiting for the teacher to show up and listening to the nonsense his classmates were spouting. He’d gladly welcome being late if he didn’t have to hear them talking about some idiotic show. He also didn’t want to see James Griffin’s stupid face. If a person’s presence could be capable of spreading illness, then James had been giving Keith nausea and dyspepsia for almost five years.

“Hey, Kogane!” Keith ignored whoever called out to him, continuing his walk toward the school, before a hand slapped his back. “Want to talk?”

Keith had already formed a grimace that tended to scare away anyone who dared approach him. This girl with purple, bobbed hair held back by hairclips in the shape of a diamond, one on each side, should be no different. Unfortunately, she took his silence as permission to talk.

“Listen, I don’t care about what you’re doing - but refrain from hitting on Ezor.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t know if you realize it or not, but she’s not into guys.”

“I wasn’t - who are you?”

“Acxa, her friend,” she answered simply. “I hope the message was clear.”

Keith shrugged his shoulders, impassive to the world around him. He wasn’t going to stay here long enough to worry about it. Acxa didn’t say anything after that, going past him into the building that Keith could hardly stand.

Today was a bit different, though. Everyone sent him weird looks and a few people attempted to greet him with a wave. Not thinking much, he returned them, earning hitched breaths and even more gasps and gawking. Sighing, he entered his classroom, getting another round of stares as his feet moved towards the back of the room.

“Hello, mister Kogane,” his teacher said, observing Keith as the boy took his seat. “I see yesterday was just a fluke in your perfect line of late arrivals.”

“What do you mean?” Keith put his bag on his desk with a bang, ignoring the gaze of the student behind him. “I’m always late.”

All heads in the room turned towards him, inspecting him in a way that was well beyond polite. Like he was a frog on display during biology class.

“What?!” Keith snapped, sending deadly glares towards those sitting closest to him

“And he’s back,” said one of the girls from the front row. “I told you it wouldn’t last.”

“Rizavi, your comment was unnecessary. Kogane, since you have finally graced us with your presence, would you be so kind as to read the text starting from the third paragraph?”

Grunting and rolling his eyes, Keith fished out his Spanish book, opening it to the last page covered with his scribbles. Furrowing his brow a bit, he turned few more, noticing pages filled with answers. Weird, there was not a single drawing on them. Finding the first blank page, he struggled with reading the assigned paragraph. Before he could reach the third sentence, the teacher asked him to stop.

“And yesterday’s display of language was also a fluke, I see. Daibazaal, take over.”

Ignoring the lessons as always, Keith stared out the window at the birds. He needed to survive one more year and he could finally go to a pilot school, where they would teach only things that were necessary and not useless crap like _language._

But for now, he had to survive living in a town of 10,000 people, where there were no secrets and everyone treated you like an outcast if you didn’t fall into any of their predetermined categories. Keith was a prime example. He wasn’t a delinquent, but no one in their right mind would call him the gold standard. He was insanely good at a few subjects but sucked at the ones he considered dumb. And if someone tried to make fun of him, they could get a fist in the face regardless of gender or age. His combat training was something people should be wary of, and they all were. No one wanted to walk around with his autograph on their face in the form of a giant bruise or a black eye.

He went through his day like that until lunch break, when he sneaked out to a nearby restaurant. His best friend was already seated at their usual table.

“So, you’re not going to stand me up today?” Shiro asked, sending him sad puppy dog eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked as he hung his bag on the seat backrest. “I always come to see you.”

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Shiro pointed out, pushing him a menu that by now they both knew by heart.

“Yes I was. I know you’re old but it’s too early for Alzheimer’s, Shiro.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Huh?”

“What do you want?”

“Dumplings with mushrooms and potato pancakes, you?”

“Salmon salad and cheesecake.”

When school finally came to an end, Keith ran out quickly, as if he had wings on his back. Without thinking, his legs carried him to his workplace: a tiny garage, where he could collect money for his big runaway and work on his bike.

“Hey, kiddo!” One of the workers waved at him with a wrench, not moving even an inch from where he worked on an engine. “You didn’t got lost today, huh?”

“What?”

“Oh, yes. Your classic, snappy ‘what’. Ah, I’ve missed it. To think it was only gone for a day.”

“Liar!” called the other worker, turning slightly from where she stood. “You said he looked cute yesterday.”

“Me? More like you.”

Keith ignored them, pulling on his work suit before moving to another engine. The client wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t ready by next week. If he did it fast enough, maybe he’d be able to spend some time with Shiro. He liked his lessons about kanji, even if they would be useless in real life.

“At least today I don’t have to explain everything to him like yesterday. Seriously, what was that? Short term memory loss?”

“We’ll never know.”

And just like that, a few hours later, Keith was back home. His mother still was absent, but he didn’t think too much about it. She had hardly ever been at home over the last ten years. Pushing aside different foods inside the fridge, he eventually settled on soup leftovers. Leaving it to heat, Keith went to the bathroom, ignoring the puppy following him. He’d never understand why it followed him even there. Opening the cabinet, he noticed a few more jars with what looked like … lotion? Strange, his mother didn’t care that much about skincare. She hardly ever did makeup anymore. Shrugging, he finally fished out the scar ointment. The mark on his right cheek was slowly disappearing, but he still had to take care of it. Only now he noticed the lack of its nightly bandage, but that wasn’t the only thing his face lacked. The scar itself was also gone.

“What? How?”

Curiosity and puzzlement surged in Keith. Experimentally he scratched his cheek, observing how a fair layer of color stayed under his nail and exposed his face. He scratched even more, revealing the rest of scar.

“Is that … makeup?”

“Woof!”

“But I have no idea how to do it … ”

“Grrrr!”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you. Don’t worry, I just have to eat first.”

~*~

*Beep*Beep*

Once more, the phone rang and vibrated with its alarm, begging Lance to kindly wake up and turn it off. Groaning with as much power as he possessed, Lance felt blindly around to turn it off but failed, literally falling off the bed in his quest to do so.

“Auch!” left his mouth the moment his back and head hit the floor. “Stupid phone.”

After saying it, Lance froze. Yes, he said the words, but that sure didn’t sound like his voice. It was a lot deeper and huskier, much more than he would play off as morning hoarseness. Maybe he was sick and wouldn’t have to go to school! But he still needed to turn off the stupid alarm.

Sitting up, he pulled tangled sheets off of his head, for the first time taking in his room - and, okay, this was weird on a whole new level. He never had a poster with maps of constellations, a big shelf with books, or a clean desk. Not to mention that everything in this room was red, black, or white, while Lance clearly remembered having blue walls. Had Hunk and Pidge made him a target of one of these stupid internet pranks and were now observing him via tiny cameras hidden somewhere? He wouldn’t put it past them.

“Keith, did you wake up?” a voice called from somewhere behind the door, followed by barking. Lance didn’t have a dog. “I heard a loud bump.”

“I fell off the bed!” Lance called back on autopilot before he could think it through. Whose voice was it? And how did a dog get here?

“Oh, are you okay?”

“Just a little bruise.”

“Good. Come down when you’re ready.”

Finally finding the phone, noticing that the model was weirdly old and totally not his, Lance quieted the incessant beeping. The silence was welcome but his ears still rang. He eventually stood up but before he could take a step forward, he noticed another thing that was absolutely not normal.

“Why the heck am I white?!”

Lance inspected his hands, which weren’t light brown anymore. They weren’t exactly white either, but it was a lot closer than his natural complexion could ever become. Bringing the cellphone closer to his face, he noticed another monstrosity in its reflection.

“Is that a mullet?!”

Opening up the wardrobe was even worse. There were only a bunch of t-shirts, jeans, jackets, and two scarves. Almost all of it was black, with a few exceptions for colors almost equally dark. The closet was a black hole to another dimension. It was like the worst dream Lance could ever have. And just like that, a lightbulb went off.

_Oh! It must be a dream. Thank goodness! I would **never** live with a mullet._

Letting out a sigh, Lance scrambled through the wardrobe, looking for anything worth wearing. He eventually settled on a red t-shirt (the only colorful thing there), skinny black jeans, and a simple jacket with some sort of red symbol on the back. Deciding that having a mullet was a big no-no, even in a dream, he pulled the string out of one of the sweatshirts to tie his hair back. Not the best solution, but for now it would work.

Deciding it was finally time to go out, he went downstairs, almost falling along the way, before he entered a room with a grown woman in a suit and with a similar haircut -- only with a rattail. Did everyone in his dream have to have a ridiculous haircut?!

“I made waffles. I hope they turned ou-” Her voice died on her lips as she turned to look at him, pupils dilated. “You brushed your hair.”

“Well, yes? Did you expect me to walk around with a mullet?”

“ … ” The woman said nothing, giving him only one curious stare before pouring herself some coffee. “At least this time you have an excuse.”

“For what?” Lance asked, taking a bite out of his waffle. It wasn’t bad, but he preferred it more crunchy.

“For when you’ll be late again,” she responded, taking a long sip.

At her words Lance looked at the clock, only just noticing that his lessons would start in ten minutes, and choking in surprise.

“ _Joder!_ I-I mean, um, could you give me a lift?”

This time it was her turn to choke on her coffee, looking at him as if he had just grown another head. After studying his face long enough to convince herself that it wasn’t a joke, she nodded once.

“Cool! Thanks!” Lance said, taking another bite of waffle.

“ … You’re welcome.”

The school wasn’t that far and he got there pretty early. The only problem was that he didn’t know where his classroom was. By some miracle, he found a sheet in his bag with listed lessons. Classroom 107 it was then.

When he finally got there, he let out a silent yell of victory, ignoring the weird looks people around sent him and how they pointed fingers at him. He didn’t have to care about the opinions of imaginary people. He opened the doors, finally entering the classroom and getting even more confused stares at him, then at their phones or the wall clock.

“What the hell?” someone gasped in the back of the room.

“You’re here before the teach?!”

“I overslept a bit,” Lance settled upon, taking a step into the classroom. Before the door could close, someone's hand kept it from doing so. Turning back, Lance noticed the very confused stare of an old man, probably the teacher. To Lance’s surprise, his first reaction was to glance at the watch on his wrist.

“Did I miss a solstice or what?”

“I’m on time!” Lance said quickly, before the teacher could change his mind.

“Yeah, you are … ” Behind his back, Lance could hear all sorts of whispers. “Okay, take a seat. We’re starting a lesson.”

The lesson turned out to be boring, since it was Spanish - Lance’s second language. He even pointed out a few mistakes the teacher made along the way, getting even more stares and even an A. Well, he could deal with that. It’s not like he’d ever say no to a good grade.

The rest of the lessons varied, like they always did in school. A few were better, some were worse, and the rest were straight up awful.

Lance welcomed lunch break with happiness, up until he noticed the lack of any packed food. Wasn’t the woman in the house his supposed mother and therefore should have given him a sandwich? At least he had money to spare. Standing in the cafeteria line, he noticed two people in front of him talking about nail art.

“But look at them!” the shorter one said, pushing her hand into the face of the other, whose gender Lance couldn’t make out. “Look how cute they are!”

“Are they?” they asked, tilting their head in confusion. “To me it’s just a bunch of colorful paint.”

“Hmph. You’re mean! How could you say so?!” she asked turning her back on her friend and crossing her arms over her chest, finally giving Lance a look at them. “I paid a lot for them, just so you know.”

“And it was worth it.” Lance nodded in appreciation and gaining the attention of a few people. “They sure look cute. I like how these two look like a mirror.”

Before he could add more, the girl smiled brightly and jumped to his side, taking his hand into hers. “You think so too?”

He nodded once, flashing a full, toothy smile as the girl turned her head slightly back with a smug look stretching on her face. “At least _someone_ here has a good taste.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You know,” Lance inspected her little fingers painted with orange. “I would love to add a flower design here. It would look even better.”

“Yeah, but I can’t do it and it costs extra at the beauty parlor.”

“Well, if you had a nail polish and toothpick - I could do it.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah.” Lance freed one of his hands to put it closer to his mouth to frame his masterful flirty grin. “For such a pretty girl? Anytime.”

“Yay!” She jumped at his neck, hugging him with surprisingly muscular arms. “You’re so cute, flippy hair!”

“Of course I am, but - listen, can I ask for a favour?” Lance pointed at his cheek where the awful scar was stretching. “Can I borrow your concealer? I’d like to cover this up.”

When school ended, Lance had no idea what to do, so he simply decided to walk around the city - or rather, town. There were a few coffee shops and restaurants here, along with a bunch of stores, but nothing worth deeper exploration. No swimming pool, ice rink, or bowling alley, and the cinema had nothing to offer. The only atraccion seemed to be the not-yet-built planetarium. Boring with a capital B.

“Keith!” Lance jumped when someone caught his shoulder and turned around to face them. The man was tall with an Asian face and a muscular build but kind eyes. A shock of black hair fell between his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, walking?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work now?”

“Work? I’m working?”

“For as long as I can remember, you always work after school.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose, before putting a hand on Lance’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

“No?”

The men kept staring at him, looking for - well, Lance had no idea what, but it couldn’t be good. He eventually let go with a sigh, pushing a helmet into Lance’s hands.

“I’ll drop you off at Rolo’s.”

The work was, Lance had to admit, something else entirely. Engines were tricky things and while he had some basic knowledge from Hunk, he knew next to nothing when it came to repairing them. His boss was less than pleased to come to his table every ten seconds to check or correct another seal or wire or whatever. Lance decided engineering wasn’t for him and that he would live his life without changing a tire even once.

Getting home turned out to be a lot trickier than he expected, having been driven around by people all day and not caring to pay attention to the road. After walking around and stumbling into a few beauty stores for lotions that he still could afford from his lunch money, he eventually arrived back to the house. He was welcomed by the growling of a puppy and singing from the shower. The puppy decided to attack his leg, biting down on the jeans.

“What the heck?! What are you doing buddy?!”

“Grrr!” The puppy growled with all the aggression his little body could afford.

“Come on! Let go! I’ll take you out for a walk!”

“Keith? Is that you?” a curious voice asked from somewhere in the house.

“The dog is attacking me!”

“Don’t lie.” Lance could hear the eye roll and disbelief more vividly than ever before. “He loves you too much to do that.”

When Lance finally got to bed, he gladly waited for the day to end so his weird dream could do the same. Unfortunately, it didn’t want to. Out of boredom, he counted the stars on the poster above his head. Somehow, even in the darkness, he could make out tiny letters forming _For Keith, Dad_ in the corner of it.

_Ridiculous. Who names their child such a stupid name like Keith? Most of the world won’t even pronounce the ‘th’ at the end._

Pulling out a colorful pen from the mug on the desk, Lance wrote his name down on his hand. At least there he could leave his mark.

~*~

For the next few days, Keith kept questioning his sanity. One day of people acting more wary or weirdly friendly around him was one thing, but it becoming a recurring situation was just abnormal - not to mention how he had seemed to lose track of the days. Even the state of his face and books were suspect. There shouldn’t have been a single page without his doodles, but every third or fourth chapter not only were they missing, but his exercises were done. And there were a few tests from Spanish that he didn’t remember taking but aced better than anyone in the school. Even his mother began to give him weird presents like lotions or foundation. Why the heck he would need that?!

But there was no way to discuss it with anyone. No one would believe him, and at best they’d send him to some medical facility, while the whole town would celebrate his disappearance. What were his options, then?

The same one as always - barge into Shiro’s tiny flat, trick him into movie night, and discuss his problems without giving away too much. The usual Keith way.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Shiro asked over his mouthful of green tea-flavored ice cream, briefly turning his eyes away from the TV.

“The last I checked, episode 78 of _GoLion_ ,” was Keith’s rebuttal over his spoon of chocolate ice cream with biscuits. Don’t judge - he liked the crunchy sounds. “You were the one to start it.”

“That’s not what I was asking for.” Shiro nudged Keith’s leg with his own, trying to catch his attention. “You never come over to watch _GoLion_ with me unless you feel bad or need to mope. Which is it?”

That was true, but only because Shiro was a huge nerd when it came to the series. He had all the comics, a few of the action figures, and followed a bunch of internet artists who created stuff from it. His current favorite went under the name _Alien_Princess_ and while they preferred different couples, Shiro still spent a lot of time on his cellphone sending her messages. Keith was almost sure he had a crush.

“Are you finally going to leave the place full of your underwear?”

“What?”

“The closet.”

Keith rolled his eyes with annoyance. Right, his mother was still unaware of his preferences. As well as this shitty town, thank gods for that! Except for Shiro, but he was, well, Shiro. He babysat Keith since he was eight and would never judge him for that. Movie preferences, an addiction to chocolate, and a wardrobe practically worshipping black - yes, _that_ he would judge. Very loudly and usually with disgust.

“Ha, ha. Funny. Look, I have a different problem-”

“Who did you kill?”

“Not _that_ kind of problem!”

“Okay, but if anything happened - Vladimir still owes me one.” Keith punched his friend in the arm, playfully but hard enough for Shiro to wince. That was one of the perks of working out.

“Then keep the favor, no one knows when you’ll almost die.”

“I can’t die - I’m immortal!”

“As if!” Keith put down his cup of ice cream, only to hug his legs. “Hey, Shiro - I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Okay, if you rip off my right arm I’ll be gone.”

Keith ignored the stupid attempt at joking and usual black humor with a roll of his eyes. There were more pressing matters to focus on. “I’ve tried … to … write a story. For an online magazine.”

Shiro’s lifted eyebrows and dilated pupils clearly showed his surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it all out.”

Shiro commented on this with a deep sigh and an eye roll that pulled his whole head into motion. “As always.”

“Could you help me?”

Keith spent the next ten minutes trying to explain as much as he could using as little detail as possible. The words showing up on his arms and in his books, the fuzzy dream of another reality, and how real that other life felt. He even mentioned things like the people there who commented on his abnormal behaviour and his actions from earlier days. Shiro listened to him, nodding, throwing in a question from time to time before he finally let the verdict fall.

“The best explanation would be a body swap. I don’t get the whole fuzzy memories after waking up, but hey! it’s your gay romance to write.”

“It’s not romance!”

“Right, right.”

While Keith would never get behind the romance part - since it was stupid and he would never date anyone until he ran away to the city, preferably Neo-Altea - the rest kinda made sense. As weird as it sounded, it explained a lot of the recent mysteries. The missing time, the lack of doodles, good grades from the subjects he was supposed to fail and vice versa, the behaviour and comments from his mother and other people.

But before he fully committed himself to this, he had to test it out. No way he’d believe in something as ridiculous as a body swap without proof. He wasn’t a character in one of Shiro’s nerdy shows!

~*~

The basement in the Holt household echoed with the various sounds of metal clashing, a keyboard hit with superhuman speed, and Pidge’s loud narration - today he had pants on. Hunk examined some part of their weird robot-sorta-thing, putting one of Lance’s chips into his mouth. His friend didn’t react, already used to such behaviour. Lance could bring only snacks, since he possessed next to no knowledge about robotics, but he still loved watching his friends work.

“Hey, Pidge,” Lance asked, a loud sigh was the only sign that his friend acknowledged his presence. “What’s the newest theory?”

“Mhmm, hard to say - maybe Litchfield's pol-”

“Not the science one!” Yelling loudly, Lance put a hand on his chest dramatically, ignoring the carrying echo of his voice. “The me one! I mean, my one-day-change-of-personality theory.”

“Oh, good one, Lance!” Hunk nodded with appreciation before stealing another chip from the bag.

“Well, nothing yet,” Pidge answered, hardly audible from the junk he was buried under. “But do not fret, my young friend,” as dramatically as possible, he rolled out to the shriek of overused wells, striking a pose with wrench still in hand. And they dared to call Lance theatrical. “Team Punk is not going to let such a discovery go to waste.”

“We’re still checking that it’s not another one of your jokes,” Hunk added, opening a pack of crackers.

“Yeah, but you’re too stupid to remember the difference between days when you’re not supposed to know your shit’-”

“Hey!”

Pidge stood up and walked over to Hunk only to take a cracker out of the pack. “So, we’re leaning towards it being the truth.”

“I still think we should ask Lance’s grandma.”

“Hunk, my dude and equally brainy friend,” Pidge looked at his friend with expectant, understandment eyes, putting a hand on his shoulder, “there’s no way I’ll believe anything even remotely superstitious,” he ended in a dreadful tone, startling the two.

It was no secret Pidge despised everything that couldn’t be scientifically explained. Lance was only partially on this wagon - he didn’t fully believe in all his grandma told him, but hearing it out loud with cold, calculated voice of little gremlin still sent shivers down his spine every time they witnessed it. He doubted there was anything Pidge hated more than that.

“Well, she tends to know a lot,” Hunk pointed out, chewing another snack. “And she predicts the future sometimes.”

“Come on, she’s old! Old people know a lot. And future-telling is nothing but bullshit.”

“Hey, don’t mock my family traditions!” All jokes aside, Lance may not be invested in it, but it was a part of his tradition and he was not there to listen to some white man deface it. It may be just Pidge, and he wasn’t a bad person, but it was up to Lance to correct him when the need arose. He was brought up with these beliefs and he was going to defend them.

“Lance, buddy, listen - I get family traditions. Hunk’s cooks, mine breathes science and yours is sort of into magic. Don’t get me wrong, I love your handmade cords.” As affirmation, Pidge showed his wrist with the green-black-orange cord wrapped around it before pulling on Hunk’s hand to show a similar one, only with a combination of yellow-orange-gray. ”But the all mojo stuff? My scientific soul can’t believe it.”

Lance couldn’t help the skeptical look he sent towards Pidge. “If you're a scientist, you shouldn’t believe in souls.”

“That was a figure of speech.”

“Beside, _abuela_ can’t explain this shit.” He leaned back against the old armchair, putting one leg over the armrest. “Nothing like that was ever mentioned in our family stories.”

“And what was?”

“That the members of the Serrano family have unique abilities, capable of preventing catastrophes.”

“And they say Matt is a weeb.”

“Yeah, I know. But check this out.” Lance stretched out his free hand to pull out his notebook from his bag, a bunch of different questions written across the page. “I didn’t write it - it’s not my handwriting. And Rachel said she didn’t do the drawings, something like ‘it’s not my style’, but that’s not all.” Lance rolled up his right sleeve, showing “KEITH” written in red ink on his forearm.

“Do we know anyone named Keith?”

“Maybe it’s Lance’s new hookup?” wondered Pidge, chewing one of cookies.

“He’s leaving the closet?” Hunk pumped his fist with joy, which looked weird since he also held a bitten biscuit. “Finally!”

“I’m not in the closet!” Lance yelled, loud enough to scare away the birds looking in through the small window near the ceiling. “I’m just straight!”

“Tch, bugger.”

“One day, Hunk.” Pidge shook his head, looking hopefully into the distance before grabbing his screwdriver. “One day,” he repeated, weighting it in hand, almost like he was considering stabbing it into something that wasn’t a screw. Lance may or may not have sensed danger looming.

“Come on! Not everyone is gay.”

“Lance, queers walks in prides - like lions,” came the simple reply, before Pidge dove under the machine. “That’s not a theory, it’s a fact. You can’t hang out with us and be straight - it’s against the rules.”

“Seriously, guys,” Hunk and Pidge couldn't help the tired look they sent him, hands deep in their project. “Gay shit aside, what do you think?”

“Your other personality leaves messages behind.” Pidge stated coldly, like the scientist that he was.

“Or your soulmate when you switch bodies,” Hunk said a second later, a soft look on his face - totally ignoring the eyeroll and disgust on his left. On this, Lance could agree with Pidge.

“Switch? Pidge, did you hear that?! And you called _me_ a weeb.”

“Well, when I was little my Ma’ told me a story about a king and queen destined to live together, but who lived on far away islands so they had no chance of meeting.”

“And another superstition,” Pidge complained, adding an Italian curse under his breath. “Thank you very much,” he added sarcastically, with a screwed with disgust face.

“But the gods decided to help them and allowed their souls to switch places once a month so they could find each other. One day, the king and his men took a boat to search for the land of his queen. After months of sailing, guided only by his memories and her help, he finally arrived at the new land and created a union with his new family. They were known as distance lovers, because there was no distance capable of keeping them apart.”

“As cute as it sounds,” another curse escaped from his mouth, when some screw flew back at Pidge, “I will never believe it.”

“You’re still searching for Mouthman on the net.”

“Because I’m curious, okay?! It wasn’t ever explained and I refuse to believe in a giant, purple mouth killing people!”

~*~

Later, when Keith left a bunch of different notes and actually received answers for them in his book, the body swap theory turned out to be irrefutable.

Lance was a boy from a big city attending school for future biologists. During dreams he exchanged bodies with Keith, a boy from a little town walking to a regular school, for a day until they both went to sleep at night. The exchange would happen every two or three days and lasted only for one, but it still was more than enough to cause problems for them and their families.

So, to make this strange phenomena easier to survive, they set a bunch of rules, created planners with everything they had to do, and agreed to report to each other each day they exchanged places.

But something that looked simple written down on paper was not so easy in real life, which they discovered pretty quickly.

Keith looked down at the set of rules laid out for him next to a big folder with files about different people and their connections to Lance.

The rules said:

  1. No hitting on any girl (or boy, no judging here) never, ever, even if your life depended on it
  2. Hang out with my friends and family (act natural)
  3. Keep my marks good
  4. No fights
  5. Or knives
  6. Don’t listen to what my sisters say
  7. Pretend to listen to dad
  8. Follow what grandma says but never without an eye roll
  9. Listen what mom says. Always.
  10. Face mask every evening
  11. I’m gorgeous, but please don’t masturbate in my body



Most of these, Keith respected and understood - mothers are scary monsters and you should always listen to them. The rest, however? What even was the purpose of a face mask? Would it hurt him if he didn’t put one on? It’s not like his skin was- oh, wait! Keith touched Lance’s cheek. The idiot had skin as smooth as a baby's butt.

But how was he supposed to remember all of these people?! His closest family contained seven people, and there were also friends at school -- and he had to be nice to them? Like they’re best buddies? How did people even do that?!

Oh, great. The guy also had a crush. Of course he did. Why was Keith even surprised? Although, he had to admit, you had to be as gay as him not to fall for her. The girl had long, kinda silver or gray curly hair, a symmetrical face, blue eyes, dark skin, and worked with Lance. Even her name, though exotic, rolled nicely off the tongue - Allura. Well, don’t worry Lance - Keith was not going to flirt with anyone until he’s twenty.

But still, face masks?

~*~

The phenomenon was unusual, to say the least, but Lance had to work with it. He worked so hard to get into this school, and some ridiculous guy wouldn’t stop him from staying there. He had to survive and write a bunch of tests or essays and he’d be fine.

So he glanced down at the rules, hardly believing where his life had gone.

  1. Always come to class a bit late - avoid contact with people
  2. Fight all you want, just take care of the wounds later
  3. Don’t get close to anyone except the people in the drawing
  4. Take care of the dog
  5. Never lie to my mother (except about this situation)
  6. Write down all the symbols Shiro shows you, with descriptions
  7. Always go to work after school



Simple rules that Lance find no problems with following - except for all the ones he had problems with. While not lying to mom and taking care of the dog were obvious, he had no idea why the guy hated the idea of social interaction. Oh, wait - there was one exception. Takashi ‘Shiro’ Shirogane - his childhood friend and sort of brother figure, but he couldn’t know that. His ego would burst or he would burst into tears, Keith wasn’t sure.

Lance couldn’t help the groan and eye roll - the guy was on a totally different level of emo than even he predicted. Dark clothes, long hair, and an edgy playlist was one thing, but no friends?

Well, Lance guessed he had to start with a little change of wardrobe. There was no rule saying he wasn’t allowed to do so. Maybe a little bit of red? Or blue? Yeah, blue sounded cool.

~*~

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Keith yelled, opening his wardrobe only to witness rows of blue, red, white, and gray clothes. He even checked that he was in his own body, to make sure he hadn’t opened Lance’s wardrobe (even if it wasn’t possible, since Keith still remembered how he had ridden the metro which was only in the city, since his town didn’t have one), only to groan even more. That little idiot was going to pay for this! He couldn’t just walk into his life and throw away all his clothes!

Choosing the darkest things he still owned - navy blue jeans, a gray t-shirt and a miraculously-saved black jacket - he ran down to the kitchen. His mother, still in her pajamas, jumped when he passed her in the hall.

“What is going on?”

Keith opened the fridge, getting out a few eggs for breakfast with as much angry force as he possessed. “I’m making breakfast.”

“But you still have an hour to leave.”

“I have to do something first.”

“I won’t help you carry the body.”

“Oh my- how many times I have to repeat myself?! I’m not going to kill anyone! I just need to check one thing on the school computer.”

“You’re going to school _now_?”

“Yes, I know, shocking. Don’t worry - it’s a one time thing.”

“Liar.”

“What did you say?”

~*~

“WHAT THE CHEESE?!” Lance yelled, looking into the mirror where he clearly could see that his hair was no longer brown but red. Freaking red! Not that he couldn’t pull it off but it just was not his style! And he has a shift with Allura today, great. Keith just sabotaged his chance with hers. Oh, he’s going to get his revenge on the guy. Keith is going to beg for his forgiveness. Lance hoped it wasn’t a long lasting dye.

“Lance, what the heck?” Rachel opened the doors to the bathroom, not a little taken aback by his lack of clothes beside a towel around his hips. “Stop yelling. I told you it was a dumb idea.”

~*~

The next time Keith woke up in his body, he had “Mullet”, “Idiot”, “Emo” and “Furry” written all over himself along with an even more colorful wardrobe.

A few days later, Lance woke up with “Goofball” written over and over on his face and a red streak in his hair - this time not so easy to wash off.

“Stop dying my hair!” Lance wrote on Keith’s arm.

“Stop changing my wardrobe and spending money on stupid stuff” rebutted Keith.

“Why do you work everyday?!”

“To pay for your shopping. Your skin care routine is stupid.”

“Your knives are stupid! Why do you learn so much Japanese?!”

“I AM PARTIALLY JAPANESE. STOP TAMPERING WITH MY GRADES!”

“NO, YOU STOP WITH MINE!!!”

It took them three months to get used to the situation and to cooperate, kind of. They were still fighting, but at least they stopped with the pranks and tried to act responsibly. The key word was “tried”, because they still were teenagers with messy hormones, and still learning about social skills.

~*~

Another day, another body swap. It was scary how much Keith was used to it by now. If anyone had asked what the most constant things in his life were, he would answer: his hatred for this town, Shiro’s company, and body swaps. Who would have predicted that his teenage years would be this weird?

“Lance!” a girl with silver hair yelled from the other side of the store. It took Keith a moment to respond to her. Right, he’s in _Lance’s_ body now. “Could you help me move some of these boxes here? I have no idea where they should be placed.”

With a sigh, Keith stood up, dragging his feet to the storehouse. He had to keep up the pretence or Lance would do something in exchange next time they switched. It would only turn into a bigger mess - like it was for the past few months.

They continued to stuff boxes into different places until the girl finally spoke again.

“Hey, Lance.”

Keith turned his head back, observing the girl. She looked lost, staring at another box in her arms. He pointed at the shelf it should go but she didn’t spare him a single look, just kept staring at the box with candies.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to thank you for the other day.”

“Huh?”

“I am glad you scared away those people but please, do restrain yourself from doing it again.”

Oh, right. During the last swap Keith beat up a guy who didn’t understood when the girl denied his invitation to a date. Lance was so mad to have a bruise and a black eye.

Only now it clicked in Keith’s head that this was Lance’s crush, Allura - the daughter of some CEO of an architecture company, responsible for most of the innovative solutions in Neo-Altea. She’d spent most of her life in England and now spoke with a weird British accent. She was a bit of a nerd, too. Keith already recognized the pink helmet and blue key of pilots from _GoLion_ which she attached to her cellphone, not to mention her attempt at dying her hair white. Black hair was hard to mask, though, and to reach an absolute, pure white would take a while. She currently had something between silver and light grey, a bit lighter than what he saw on the photos Lance had hidden in his phone, but nonetheless the same curls. Also, she liked to draw symbols on her face, right beneath her eyes - today she had a pair of matching pink stars. The notes left by Lance had something about her being in her last year of school, so it meant she’s one year older than him, huh? Who would have thought that Lance was into older girls?

“He didn’t follow you?”

“No, but that is not the problem. You cannot just start fights with people. If your school finds out, you might be expelled. What about your dreams?”

Keith shrugged his shoulders, pushing another box of candies into its place. He wondered why she was working if she was rich, but he wasn’t enough of an inconsiderate moron to ask.

“Lance, please, look at me.” Keith didn’t listen until he winced when Allura touched his bruise with the tips of her fingers. “I am not mad at you, just worried. I am capable of taking care of myself but what about you? Did you not want to become a biologist?”

Her big, blue eyes that carried so much care and kindness were too much for Keith. If he ever had a sister, he imagined she would be like that. His eyes traveled to the side, not able to lie to her but not wanting to blow his cover.

“I don’t know what I want, Allura.”

“Oh…” She took back her hand, noticing the change in his voice. She glanced to the ground, looking for an answer, before she looked up at him again. “I think it is okay to feel lost but it is important to know what you want, and do not even think about using a pick up line now!”

“I wasn’t.”

“Hmpf, as if!” She put hands on her hips, sending him a doubtful look from under the half opened eyes. “I happen to have known you for too long not to know when one comes to your mind. You used it even when we met for the first time in the sandbox! But in all seriousness,” her hand softly touched his shoulder and a kind smile stretched across her face, “do not ever feel bad for looking for yourself. Make mistakes and learn from them. And if you need someone to listen, you have me, Hunk, and Pidge.”

“...Thank you.”

“Just make sure to not start another fight.”

After work, Keith went back to his - or rather, Lance’s - home. A tiny flat, almost on the outskirts of the city. He always was surprised that so many people could fit in there. Two rooms for kids, one for grandma, and with the parents sleeping in the living room. But despite it being so full, it also had this weird warmth that Keith couldn’t wrap his mind around.

As soon as Keith closed the front door behind him, a pair of arms wrapped around his own. “Finally!” Lance’s sister yelled, pulling him with her to their grandma’s room. “ _Abuela_ waited for you all day!”

“Why?!” Keith snapped, trying in vain to free his arm. The girl only tightened her grip before forcing him to sit on a chair.

“ _Es un estúpido, o que?_ It’s a Cord Day.” Her face screwed up, looking at him with half lidded eyes. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Right, Lance _did_ write something about it. Keith didn’t pay a lot of attention to it, since it looked to be one of his weird family traditions like watching the news after supper or taking a hiking trip at the beginning of summer.

In reality, it was much more important than he predicted and already regretted it being a part of his switched day.

“Something wrong, _nieto?”_ his grandma asked, looking at the tangled mess of strings all over the table in front of Keith. Say what you want about muscle memory, it didn’t work on creating cords! He tried his best, repeating after Rachel and the old woman in front, but his fingers just couldn’t do it. Under the worried gaze of his grandma, Keith tried to thread the strings but still didn’t get the same effect as either of them. If anything, he only created a bunch of knots and almost destroyed one string. Irritated, he threw the strings down and pushed away the weird little table that was supposed to help him thread them.

Rachel’s eyebrow lifted up in question, probably trying to connect dots in her head. “Did Allura finally dump you?”

“Shut up!” Keith yelled in her face, hitting the table with his fist in a gesture of failure and irritation. “Why do I even do it?!”

“Ech?!” Not expecting this type of behaviour, Rachel jumped in place, almost falling down. It took her a solid three seconds to compose herself and open her mouth with an answer. ”Well, because-”

“I pass,” Keith declared, already standing and ready to leave if not for the arms holding onto his legs.

“Lance? Lance, come on!” Rachel begged, wrapping her arms even tighter around Keith. “Don’t be mad because it didn’t work out with Allura. Again.”

“Allura had nothing to do with it.”

“ _Lance,_ do you know what the meaning of this is?” The old woman picked up a completed cord to show him. Keith simply shook his head, unable to provide an answer. How he was supposed to know? It was Lance’s weird family tradition, not his. Why can’t they simply sit and listen to some folk stories? At least he could doze off then.

The woman reached over table to hold his hand in hers. “They say our great-great-great grandmother had the power to jump through time and bend it to her will.”

_Oh great, now the folklore comes in..._

“She said the flow of time is like this cord, while the lives are the strings. Many strings connect, they can change the color and structure of the cord. The cords stretch and bend, at times losing their shape, but staying intact. It is the same with us. Each cord we make stores our memories.” Her elderly face gained even more wrinkles when she sent him a smile. “That’s what life is - a series of connected experiences and meetings. And that’s why our family gives a cord to everyone they consider close.” The old woman pointed at her own wrist and then at the cords wrapped around Lance’s left forearm. So that’s why the guy had so many of them. Keith never would have thought that.

“Friends, adopted siblings, pets, and lovers - they all receive a cord from Serrano family. Allura may break your heart today, but you don’t know what’s at the end of your cord. One day, you’ll meet a different person, that will turn your world upside down and you’ll give her a cord. Along with the ring, I hope.”

“Too late, it already happened.”

“Shakira doesn’t count,” Rachel reprimanded him from the floor, propping her chin on her hand.

“Good for her, she’s not on my hit list then.”

“Are you going through a rebellious phase or something? You never were so aggressive before…”

~*~

Days in Keith’s body weren’t so bad, once Lance got used to it. Yeah, the guy had an awful hairstyle and wardrobe, but Lance worked with it. Ponytail here, smuggled blue shirt here and suddenly it got a lot of better. He still didn’t understand why Keith had almost no friends but luckily for him, Lance could befriend anyone.

“Uwoah! How cute they look~” exclaimed a girl with a long, ginger ponytail held together by a few blue and yellow elastics along it. Her name was Ezor and she happened to be the head gymnast in this school. She was loud, chatty, flexible, and loved nail art as well as horror movies. “You weren’t joking when you said you’re good at it.”

“Does it matter?” asked the giant, muscular girl by her side. Lance had already learned she was Ezor’s girlfriend named Zethrid, a captain of the soccer team. She was so intimidating that Lance couldn’t help but shrink into himself every time he saw her. Her short but fluffy hair and almost masculine face confused him at the beginning, but he got used to it. She came off as harsh but the more time they spent together the more he noticed how soft she was for Ezor.

“Of course it matters, Zeh-zeh!”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Lance simply said, sending her his trademark grin with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin. Ezor giggled, waving her hand, whose nails were now decorated with flower designs.

“You’re overreacting, as usual,” mumbled a familiar, bored voice behind their backs. “It’s not that important.”

Lance turned his head back to meet the stare of the girl in goth makeup and with hairclips that resembled horns. Not the best timing to meet Acxa, but he couldn’t help it.

“Hello, there.”

“Follow me.” Without further ado, she grabbed his wrist and pulled it with force while still walking forward with a dead set glare. “Someone wants to speak with you.”

“Keith!” Hearing a familiar voice, Lance opened the closest corridor window wider to see Shiro sitting in front of the gate on a motorcycle with a paper bag in his hand. It was lucky he was only on the first floor, or he wouldn’t have heard Shiro’s yell. “Come here for a sec!”

“On it!” He turned his back to the girl holding him, prying his wrist back. “Sorry, gotta go!”

Lance ran down the hallway to the exit to talk with Shiro. He liked the guy - he was sort of a dad friend, but with dark humor and a love for fast rides. He could understand why Keith liked to hang out with him so much.

“Did I interrupt your date?”

“Kinda, I almost got this chick’s number.”

“Ptff!” Shiro laughed into his fist, half bent over seat.

“You don’t believe in my ‘bad boy charm’? That’s cruel.”

“I believe, therefore - poor girl. Here.” Shiro pushed the paper bag into Lance’s hands, waiting eagerly for his reaction. Inside was a bunch of ink bottles, pens, and pencils. They weren’t the best, Lance knew that much thanks to Rachel, but it still was decent for a person who likes to draw and he already was aware Keith was that sort of person.

“Wow. Thanks, Shiro.”

“I asked a friend for advice. She said these would be the best material to start with. So,” he broke off before pulling out another box, this time with a chocolate cake inside, “Happy Birthday, my friend.”

“...”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“...”

“Oh my - you _actually_ forgot!”

Later that day, after walking Keith’s dog (which for some reason despised Lance’s presence), the boy caught himself having a revelation. The situation they had found themselves in was … unusual, but they still were friends, right? So, he should leave a present for Keith. The problem was, if Lance were to ever again touch the other boy’s secret stash of money, he wouldn’t wake up with just recolored hair and a dick drawn on his face. This meant that shops were off the list. What could he do to give the guy something nice? Oh, how he wished Hunk and Pidge were here. After staring at the desk and the pens scattered everywhere, Lance eventually picked one up, along with a clean sheet of paper. When his drawing of a sleeping cat, the only thing he could (kind of) draw, was done, he wrote down his celebratory wishes and added a P.S. It wasn’t much, but the guy didn’t get many gifts from people around so maybe he’d be happy with it. Lance only hoped Keith wouldn’t decide to commit suicide in his body, killing him along the way.

When Keith woke up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand and holding Lance’s report of the previous day in the other, a card slipped out onto his covers. A simple sketch of a blue cat with an angry expression stared at him above a paragraph of text.

_Feliz cumpleanos, Keith!_

_Congratulations, you’re officially older! You still can’t buy alcohol legally here but in Europe you’ll get a pass. Remember to not overuse this power, to keep your hair straight, and to get better at school. I won’t always be there to do your Spanish homework._

_Do something with your hair and add colors to your wardrobe. I hope that the next time we meet, we can forget about our situation and just talk like friends. You’re a cool guy when you want to be._

_P.S.: All these notes on hands are too slow. If you need to talk send me mail **[lancey.lance.@vmail.org](mailto:lancey.lance.@vmail.org) **_:)

Despite the ridiculousness of this situation and his sleepy state of mind, Keith actually smiled. He always considered having friends a nuisance, but Lance and his friends weren’t so bad. He could get used to being around Pidge and Hunk. Allura was cool too. And Lance had a point - getting messages across by writing on his arms and face took too long, especially when he wanted to reprimand Lance for hanging out with people at his school. Again.

~*~

They say you can’t take certain qualities out of some people. In Lance’s case, he couldn’t stop himself from meddling and gossiping around with people. If social interaction was water, then Lance was a fish - much to Keith’s disdain. People at Keith’s school realized pretty soon that Ponytail Keith (Lance) is approachable, while Mullet Keith (regular Keith) ... not so much. Also, his memories had the tendency to disappear from day to day, so one had to be careful when talking to him.

**_k.kogane wrote:_ **

_Lance, please stop trying to become friends with everyone at school! I don’t want to have anything to do with these people. Stop complicating this situation even more._

**_@lancey.lance replied:_ **

_Keith, have you ever tried to genuinely have fun? Seriously, talk with people. They don’t bite. I know you have your emo image and stuff but you can’t live your whole life without anyone and no, Shiro can’t be your only friend Mullet_

**_@k.kogane replied:_ **

_You don’t understand a single thing, do you? Fine, go ask Griffin why he hates me. Maybe then you’ll understand._

To make their communication a tad easier, Lance had suggested a phone number exchange. Keith had declined, saying it felt too personal, so they stuck with emails. The only difference was that their fights on arms changed to fights over email. Lance was still complaining about how long it took Keith to reply, but at least this way they could have more normal conversations.

And maybe, just maybe, his curiosity was piqued a little bit. He knew there was a reason for Keith to be such an emo, he just didn’t know what it was. Well, if a talk with this Griffin person would shine a light on this situation, Lance couldn’t say no.

So the next time he woke up in Keith’s body, Lance went straight to James Griffin, looking for the answers. The greeting he got was less than pleasant and a lot different than Lance had anticipated.

James’ “What are you doing here, Kogane?” was unamused and rather irritated, sounding tired and unwelcoming question, and the only reaction to Lance’s greeting. Okay, despite Keith’s various handsome points, Lance couldn’t transfer all of his own qualities.

“Hello, Griffin!” Lance asked, with his best impression of a villain. “Or maybe you would prefer James, hm?”

“Suit yourself,” came the humorless answer, not at all bothered by his antics.

“Okay, here’s the thing. You don’t like me. Think we can change that?”

“What..?”

“Think we can bury the hatchet?”

“...”

“Come on! Cooperate! Give me some directions!”

“Then, do you want to go out with me?”

“Wha-?!”

“I guess that’s a no.”

“Hold your jets, how did we jump from a simple argument to dating?”

“It’s your fault,” Griffin provided simply, his eyes full of anger. “First you flirt with me, then you won’t even admit it. I hate people who do that. I didn’t want to believe what people said -”

“Wait, stop right there. What do they say?”

“You know, the regular stuff - that you’re not from here, therefore worse. That you don’t participate in local feasts, so you’re arrogant and put on airs. That everyone can just tell you smoke, take drugs, and beat people up for fun. That since Mr Kogane died you started your descent into self destruction.”

“But I-”

“It sounded like stupid rumors spread by old women. I didn’t believe it at first. Just because you don’t follow some stupid rules wasn’t gonna convince me you’re a bad guy. But turns out they were right - you’re a lost cause, not worth saving.”

Okay, enough - there’s where Lance drew the line. He had let the other talk this long because it seemed like he might have had a point, but turns out it was just gibberish. Did Keith had a lot of flaws? Yep, Lance could agree with that. Was it anything from the list that this just said? Not at all. Okay, Keith _did_ beat people up (like for example Lance’s teacher, Mr Iverson, when he said Lance didn’t had a potential) but it was never for fun.

“You know what? I was ready for teen angst, but this? Don’t assume everyone who's nice to you wants to score. You’re not _that_ hot. Did the thought that Ke - I mean, I may not be into you not once crossed your mind? Hmm?” Lance walked backwards, drinking up the shocked expression on Griffin’s face. Before he left his earshot, he saluted him mockingly. “Later, loser.”

**_lancey.lance wrote:_ **

_So I’ve talked with the guy. I must admit it was an experience to remember. He hates you because you’re straight?_

**_@k.kogane replied:_ **

_Wrong, he hates that I’m not what he imagined_

**_@lancey.lance replied:_ **

_I don’t get it?_

**_@k.kogane replied:_ **

_Self destructive, careless, rebel for choice, needy for attention etc._

_I think he imagined he would make me a proper part of society by dating him_

**_@lancey.lance replied:_ **

_Please, tell me you didn’t date him_

**_@k.kogane replied:_ **

_Don’t worry. He’s not my type._

Before Lance could send another message and continue his banter with Keith, a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise and maybe even eliciting a tiny squeak from his mouth.

“We’re finally meeting, Kogane,” said the tall boy, boring his dark eyes into Lance’s. “It’s hard to catch you these days.”

“Oh, hey,” Lance stuttered out, connecting the dots fast enough to recognize one of his classmates. Or rather, Keith’s classmates - he still got confused. “I would love to talk, but I have to hurry to work.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, Rolo’s gonna cut my hand off if I don’t hurry with this car for a new client. See ya tomorrow!”

Later that night Lance had an epiphany while staring down at the conversations he and Keith had today.

_He didn’t deny being gay…_

He didn’t know what to make of that revelation so he simply rolled his eyes, wondering why he was such a queer magnet.

~*~

“Keith Kogane,” a hand landed on Keith’s shoulder, startling him and almost causing his phone to fall to the ground, “care to join me for a little talk?”

The guy was huge, like, _really_ huge. Slimmer than Shiro, but just as tall and muscular. Weirdly, he reminded him of Allura - both had dark skin and fair, long hair. The difference was that while Allura aspired to white locks, this guy was more of a platinum blonde and his skin was a lot lighter than hers - kind of like a coffee with too much milk. Also, Allura had curls while the guy’s hair was straight.

“Do I know you?”

“We talked yesterday?”

“...”

“I sit behind you in Spanish?”

Oh right, the son of the local mob king: Lotor Daibazal. He was famous for having both brains and good looks. Girls swooned over him despite him already having a girlfriend. Her name was Acxa, a broadcaster for a local radio station, if Keith remembered correctly. His father owned most of business in town, making him the local king and bourgeoisie. The rumors said that the doorknobs at their mansion were golden and gemmed with diamonds.

The day kept getting better and better.

“What do you want?”

“Pardon my persistence, but are you by any chance suffering from … split personality disorder?”

“...what?”

Okay, Keith expected a lot. He was ready to hear everything but this. Why did a guy that he, to his knowledge, had never talked with before suddenly ask him about this? If Lance had somehow busted them both, he’d kill that beautiful - he meant dumb boy. Dumb boy with pretty eyes, but still dumb.

“I happened to notice you were not acting like yourself the last few months.” Not even slightly moved by Keith’s reaction, Lotor continued his detective work, putting one hand to his chin. “At first, I considered that, perhaps, you are looking for yourself, but you’ve been really different over the last few months. You talk with people you would normally never even look at, or overnight you forget languages and other nuances.”

“Okay, stop.” Keith waved his hands before Lotor could continue, and more or less figure the situation out. “Look, thank you for looking out for me. I appreciate it even, but you’re wrong. I don’t have any sort of disorder.”

_Just a random occurrence of switching bodies with an idiot, who sometimes shows that he cares. Okay, more than sometimes, but it’s still weird._

_If he reports it, then they’ll put me in some facility and start treatment and then I’ll never leave this place. The last thing I need is for someone to figure it out._

“You do not have to-”

“I SAID I DON’T!”

At Keith’s yell, the few people still present in the corridor turned towards them with a mixture of curiosity and fear. It’s not everyday you witness the local rebel and the local prince jumping at each other’s throats. The crowd, although small, gathered around to not-so-subtly observe the situation. Keith gritted his teeth while Lotor only glanced around once before resuming the conversation.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of. You should not feel -”

“Listen, when I say I don’t have split personality - it means I don’t have it. End of story.”

The face Lotor made at his statement was strange. It wasn’t pity, nor concern or anger - maybe grief, with a tiny glimpse of hope, but it sure seemed out of place to Keith. In a defeated tone, almost like he was begging, Lotor asked him in a lowered voice, as if he was afraid that the crowd might overhear them, “Then, can I ask you one more thing? I promise to leave you alone after that.”

Keith’s eyebrow rose, seeing a possible escape from this situation. “For real?”

“My word is my bond.”

“What do you want?”

~*~

Curse Keith’s fondness for running away from people, because it got him stuck in Lotor’s fancy car. And what was worse, he had no idea where the hell they were going, besides that it was out of town. It was good he didn’t have a shift at the garage today (Lance kept complaining so Keith, to have a bit of peace, canceled a few of his shifts. Lance still went there from time to time but noticeably less than at the beginning of this whole fiasco).

The ride was quiet, disturbed only by the sound of jazz coming from the radio. Even the scenery was muted, with only trees and bushes along the road. After an hour, an enormous white building revealed itself. Keith would have asked some questions, but anger overtook him the moment he read the sign.

“You brought me to the Mental Hospital?!”

“Indeed I did, but not for the reason you may think.”

“I’ve told you, I’m not sick!”

“I want you to meet someone.”

“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”

“I’ve promised, have I not?”

Fine, Keith could lose one afternoon to convince some sleepy doctor he didn’t have a split personality and get back home before supper. He left the car, slamming the door with all of his strength just to make a point.

Lotor smiled to the receptionist sitting behind the desk, writing something down on paper. When the woman pointed at Keith, he simply answered that he had brought a friend and received a smile that Keith was too familiar with. It was a forced smile of pity; he hated them. He had gotten his share of them after his father passed away.

They walked down a long hallway with white walls before stopping at a set of doors labelled 307, labeled with “Honerva Daibazal”. After inhaling and exhaling once, Lotor tied up his hair into a sloppy ponytail and opened the doors.

Inside the room sat a middle-aged woman with hair the same color as Lotor’s tied up into a bun and nearly the same skin tone - maybe just a bit darker. After looking long enough Keith also noticed another similarities, like their eyes and moles in the same place on their faces.

“Hello, Mother,” Lotor said, entering the room and leaving a stunned Keith behind. “How are you feeling today?”

Spending the day in the mental facility with Lotor and his mother, whom Keith was sure people said was dead, wasn’t how he imagined his afternoon would pass, but here he was. In the garden at the back of said building, Lotor stood next to him, pulling a cigarette out of his coat. He gestured with the pack towards Keith, only for him to refuse. Not commenting on it other than a surprised expression (because who would have thought that Keith didn’t smoke?) Lotor put the cigarette in his mouth and ignited it. Inhaling the smoke into his lungs, he let out a grey cloud before he spoke.

“She was put there five years ago, when she finally broke. My father abused her and she continued to repress her feelings, until one day she finally lost it. That’s how she developed the second personality. Most of the time she’s Honerva but there are days when she changes to Haggar.” To hide the way his hands started to shake, Lotor put the cigarette into his mouth to take another puff. “I hate looking at people who meet their end because someone else’s aggression took away their chance. I cannot stand watching people suffer.”

“Your mom … it sucks.” Keith had to listen to how people ‘felt sorry for him’ long enough to promise himself never to use that phrase in a similar situation. Lotor’s mother was alive, but it still probably hurt as much as a parent’s death. He could understand that much.

“I know.” Lotor looked his way, a shadow of a smile at the corner of lips, probably thankful for being spared Keith’s pity. “You are not what people make of you.”

“An angry, fatherless good for nothing delinquent?”

“One of those is true.”

“...”

“I remember when Mr Kogane was still with us.” A lopsided grin climbed onto Lotor’s face as he recalled childhood memories. “You were shy kid but a generous one. It was easy to convince you to do dumb stuff as long as someone simply suggested you couldn’t do it.”

“I guess?” Keith shrugged, not able to deny the possibility. His childhood memories were kinda fuzzy.

“But after he passed away, you’ve become a walking cloud of depression and then…” Trying to avoid voicing the obvious, Lotor once again puffed some smoke out. “What I’m trying to say is, you pushed away everyone but deep inside - you are still you. Except for a few days each week when you do a 140.”

“Don’t you mean 180?”

“You change a lot, but a few things stays the same, so I would not call it a complete 180.” A smug smile overtook Lotor’s face, reminding Keith of a snake. “Care to explain what’s going on?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and looking at Keith with genuine curiosity.

“Not your business.”

“Easy, I’m not going to tell anyone.” Keith couldn’t help raise an eyebrow, clearly showing his doubts. Lotor just shrugged, his face still holding the same curiosity and concern. “It is true. I have nothing to gain from this.”

”What about the people working for your father?”

“What about them?” Lotor shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Is there any need for them to know?”

“For people keeping blackmail on everyone here? I think they would like to have something new.”

“No one listens to the son of a discarded woman,” Lotor admitted, throwing away his cigarette and pulling out a second, again offering one to Keith. Keith still refused. “And It’s not like I’m planning to stay in this line of work for eternity.”

“No?”

“The moment my Father leaves me the company, I’m changing my surname and this town.”

“Why?”

“I do not desire to be associated with the likes of him, and this place needs to change.” Dark eyes looked up towards the horizon, while smoke escaped his mouth from the cigarette held between his teeth. “It is my home and I do _not_ desire to let it rot. My father has destroyed enough.”

“You want to stay here?” Keith couldn’t help his surprised tone. He was sure that, like him, everyone wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and come back only if their plans didn’t work out. Those who did always claimed that it was the fault of someone up there. Only children from poor families who didn’t get scholarships didn’t move and Lotor certainly was not one of them.

“You don’t?”

“When the opportunity strikes, I’m going to the pilot school.”

“You want to be a pilot?”

For a moment forgetting where he was, Keith raised his head, sending a wistful look to the deep blue sky with a few clouds and the white circle of the moon already visible.

“My father loved the sky, filled with clouds as well as with stars. I think I got it from him. I want to be up there. And I’m curious to see how the world looks from above.”

“You know you won’t be able to attend any school if you have poor grades.”

“...”

“I can help you get back on top,” Lotor offered, nodding to something in his head. “In the past you used to be in the top ten, if I recall correctly.”

“Back then I liked learning,” Keith answered vaguely, looking down at his laces. Funny, he had missed the fact Lance changed the black ones for blue. His plan to replace all of Keith’s clothes was still alive, it seemed.

“And why is that not the case anymore? Some sort of problems ensued, I suppose?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s nothing big.”

“Big enough to cause you to change almost completely every two or three days.”

“It’s just...I just have a problem. With...a boy.”

There was a silence following his words. Keith risked looking to his left, witnessing the blank face of Lotor. The only thing that distinguished him from a statue was unbelievably fast blinking. Then some sort of recognition glimmered in his eyes.

“Oh,” was Lotor’s only response before he inhaled more smoke, letting it out through his nose. “I see.”

“You do?”

“Well, I did not want to assume but I had my suspicions. Did it all start six months ago?”

“More or less. It was a total accident and at the beginning I couldn’t stand his guts, but turns out he’s not a bad guy.”

“Griffin?”

“What?! No! Why would you think _that_?!”

“You two were talking yesterday.”

“Someone thinks I should bury the hatchet with him. That was the only reason. It’s not James Griffin.” Keith spit out the name like it left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Then who, if I may ask?”

“He’s … not from here.” Keith answered vaguely, dead set on not giving away too much info. If he played it off as a simple quarrel with a friend, then Lotor would have his answer and leave him alone - a perfect plan. “He lives far away.”

“Do you meet often?”

“In person? No. We just stick to the emails.”

“Long distance relationship, huh?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Why don’t you visit him?”

“And what would I say? Hello, Lance! It’s me - Keith! The Mullet. Sorry to interrupt your time with friends, are you free tonight? Oh, you’re going on a date with Allura? Great. Good luck.”

“He has a girlfriend?”

“Sort of. They aren’t together yet but…”

“So that’s how it is, huh?”

“Isn’t this the part where you spit my way, turn your back, and walk away?”

“I am not like most people in this town. Someone’s sexuality is not enough to scare me away.”

_Wait, what?!_

Up until this moment Keith didn’t realize how this all sounded. True, he was gay, but goddammit, he didn’t plan on coming out to more than two people - and those were Shiro and his mom. His plan was doomed. He was doomed! Screw his life.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Shiro.”

“You did not tell your mom?”

“Heh, how? Hey mom, guess what’s straight? Not me!”

_Why do I sound so much like Lance?! He’s rubbing off on me - I’m going to kill this guy!_

Lotor giggled, ignoring the angry look that darkened Keith’s features.

“As much as I would love to see that happen, I must advise you to do it differently.” Without saying anything more, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed someone. Keith felt sweat drip down his skin, as his imagination ran wild with ideas of who it could possibly be.

”There are people who have experience in this area.”

“Who-?”

“Ah! Hello, Ezor.”

~*~

While the switches hadn’t bothered Lance that much, he missed spending time with his friends. Hunk found some hidden restaurant with Greek cuisine and dragged the three of them there to check out the menu. Everything there was impossible to pronounce so Lance and Pidge started a game of mispronunciation, while Hunk pretended they weren’t here with him. The only breaks in the game were whenever Lance got an email from a bored Keith. Since luck wasn’t on his side today, Pidge grabbed at his phone, eager to learn another dirty secret.

“Who’s Keith and why don’t we know about him?”

“Pidge!” Lance shrieked at his friend, trying to win his phone back, but the damage was already done. Hearing the conversation, Hunk’s attention was automatically pulled in.

“As above - who’s Keith?”

“And why are you promising him a cord?”

 _“What?!_ ” Hunk yelled loud enough to earn the attention of a few other guests. Sitting in between them, Lance felt like an animal in a cage. How could he explain he’s having a quarrel about guns being cooler than swords with a guy he switches bodies with? He was _totally_ winning the argument, if anyone cared. Snipers are sexy and gorgeous. Knights are simply loud, raging beasts who try to stab everything that comes their way. Wait, there were swords in Kogane house. Did that makes Keith a knight? No, he throws knives. Knives are a different story altogether.

Sensing his distress, Pidge snached his phone, scrolling through the conversation with Keith until it was deemed worthy to read out loud.

“Listen - _you know, Mullet. Your hair needs a redo. Let’s start with baby steps by cutting it all off._ The reply - _Lance, touch my hair and I’ll skin you alive_.”

“Scary!”

“Then we have this: _Okay, so since you won’t lay a foot inside any barbershop, try at least tying it up. I can even make you an elastic._ The reply - _Make? Can’t I buy one in the shop?_ And get this! Lance replied - _But you liked my cords, right? I can make you one_.”

“Oh, how cute Lance,” Hunk cooed, lacing his hands together and with a wide smile on face that could give diabetes to anyone looking at it.

“Shut up,” Lance mumbled, snatching his phone away from Pidge before either of them could find more messages, possibly even the ones about switching bodies.

“For the first time - I agree.” Pidge nodded to Hunk’s words, slurping her drink. “Lance has a boyfriend~.”

“I don’t!”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“We’re just friends who write emails to each other.”

“Do you send handmade cords to every penpal you have?”

“Umm...I didn’t have any until now?”

“Oh my- Hunk, hold my tea!” Pidge reached over the table, grabbing Lance by the shirt. “If I have to watch your stupid, dopey grin one more time while you refuse to admit that you like this guy, then I promise -- I promise -- to throw your lifeless body into the river where it can return to your Mother Ocean.”

“Hunk won’t let you!” Lance reached out to his other friend, who was watching this scene with some level of amusement. “Hunk? Buddy?”

“Pidge is the strongest here, remember? If I tried to intervene, I would die with you.” Lance groaned in defeat, having to admit the truth. Pidge was undoubtedly the strongest one amongst them despite barely reaching his elbow. “But, truth be told - you have that smile you used to wear when you talked about Allura.”

“As if!”

_Yeah right! There’s no way I’m into guys - much less into Keith. If it weren’t for these body shenanigans I would never talk to the guy._

_~*~_

The next time he woke up in Keith’s body was torture. The sky outside was dark, the sheets were warm, and the phone wouldn’t shut up. Reaching for the antique technology (seriously, Keith should have gotten a newer model) Lance groaned when his eyes noticed the time on the display.

“Three thirty? What the hell, Keith? What did I do to you-”

“Keith!” his mom called from downstairs. Lance groaned even louder, pushing his face deeper into the pillow. “Shiro’s here!”

_Oh, great. The hiking trip for the end of school. “I love outsides and greenery~” I’ll kill you Mullet - this is an unholy hour to be awake._

“Keith! Leave the bed or I’ll drag you out exactly the way you look now!”

_Not you too, Shiro! You were supposed to be the cool older brother~_

As it obviously turned out, resistance was useless. When Lance didn’t answer him, Shiro barged into the room, dragging him by the leg out of bed. Groaning and complaining, Lance eventually stood up and prepared to go out. Why do jocks like to go on fieldtrips instead of, let’s say, going to the pastry shop?

So, here was Lance - walking up the hill a few kilometers from the town, with blisters on his feet and hair falling into his eyes. Somehow, Keith hid every elastic that ever was in his home, making it impossible to tie it up.

“Shiro... Let’s go back. Please~!”

“No, I’ve told you. We have something to do there.”

“Fine…”

They continued to climb in silence for the next hour or so before they finally reached the peak. Lance was tired like he had never been in his life and considered it a miracle he hadn’t passed out yet. He looked at what was awaiting them there, only to almost pass out again, but this time from awe. The view spreading in front of his eyes was breathtaking. The whole town, the trees, and then faraway outlines of the city basked in the light of the sun. Everything looked like it was made with the watercolor paint Allura loved to use. An aura of orange tinted everything, giving them a softer look. The shadows spreading on the grounds couldn’t reach him and Shiro but were long enough to give the impression of long fingers ready to grab the two of them.

“Pretty…”

“Yeah” Shiro nodded in agreement, putting his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “That’s why they used to call this place home of the sky god. Locals believed that a god watched over their village from here.”

“Shiro, why are we here?”

Instead of answering him, Shiro put down his backpack on the ground and knelt beside it to unpack. The amount of objects coming out of it indicated that he would not get any answers quickly, so Lance occupied himself with the kanji notebook. The one that got his attention was the only symbol written in purple instead of black like the rest. Underneath was scribbled ‘twilight/witching hour’. Okay - they officially had his attention even more than before.

“Shiro?” Lance asked the man still digging in his backpack. “How do you read this one?”

With a single glance over shoulder, he provided him an answer with a smile. “Kawataredoki - it’s an archaism but I like this one. Though in the place my _jiji_ comes from they use katawaredoki.”

“Okay, cool - what’s with the ‘witching hour’?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Shiro stopped searching his bag for a moment, scratching the back of his head in thought. “To put it simply - it’s a time of day where reality blurs. Like, the sun is gone but there’s still light. The distinction between what’s real and what’s supernatural kinda disappears.”

“Huh?” Lance studied the page with the symbol, not being able to shake the nostalgic feeling off. He could swear he had seen it before. “But, doesn’t it have another meaning? It looks like it would…”

“Officially no, but in some dialects you can read it as ‘a time you ask who one is’, I think? You should ask some miko from a Musubi shrine to explain.”

“Musubi?” Lance tilted his head in confusion, staring at Shiro. “Wasn’t he a god of marriage?”

“More like - a god of ties.”

“Red strings?”

“That too, but also that which ties time and space together.”

_It kinda sounds like our cords. Strings tied together to a fateful meeting. I think I got a new pick up line._

They spent a minute in silence, concentrating on their own activities. After a while Shiro, with a triumphant noise, pulled out a metal box. Inside was nothing except a small knife.

“Uhh…”

“Remember how I told you about a sacrifice for the gods?”

“Umm, kinda?”

“Don’t lie - I see you don’t.” Shiro threw him a knowing look, already recognizing his twitching eyebrow as a sign of doubt and insecurity. “Basically, this is a sacred land and if you want to go back you have to leave a piece of yourself here. For example,” Shiro raised the tiny knife to his hair, cutting off a strand of black hair only to put it into the box. Lance watched it with a weird but familiar feeling of being lost.

“But like, why?”

“After vacation is over - I’m moving out. So do you, next year.”

_Right, Keith mentioned he’s going to leave to the city._

“Yeah…”

“So, I thought, why not leave something of ours? That way, we can always feel like a part of us is here. Like we can come back anytime.”

“You sound like a sage - maybe you should dye your hair white?”

“Don’t tempt me, Keith.” Shiro crossed his arms, sitting more comfortably on the ground. “We don’t want to have another case like that time in eight grade.”

“You sure about that?”

“You know - I won’t take you to the planetarium, if you continue to be such a smartass. Where did you get it from?”

“A gorgeous latino with blue eyes and a juicy ass.”

“Is he by any chance named Lance?”

“WHAT?!”

“When you stopped coming to our lunches I asked around, only to hear three girls and one guy discussing you and some boyfriend you have in another town.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“I know - he has a girlfriend or something.” Shiro raised his hands in a defensive gesture, while Lance had hidden his face between his knees. Keith is _the worst_ at stealth. “Listen, you can talk to me. You know I’d never turn my back on you.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell your mom?”

“About what?”

“About being gay.”

“...”

Alarm - Code Red. Keith was gay (which Lance _kinda_ knew but now he _knew)_ , was planning to come out, and Lance had no idea how to react. Oh, wise ancestors of the Serrano clan, come thou and help him!

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“...”

“I get it’s not easy but you should do it before the summer ends. It’s the last time you’ll be together this long.”

“Y-Yeah…”

Shiro smiled reassuringly, clapping a hand on Lance’s shoulder. The sheer force of it knocked the air from his lungs but Lance couldn’t help but smile. Shiro truly was the best.

“What’s the big thing you planned?” the man asked a second later, raising an eyebrow with curiosity. “You know, the one you spent half of your money on?”

“Secret!” Lance blurted, hoping Shiro wouldn’t press any further. Fortunately - he didn’t.

~*~

Waking back in his own body, with his incredibly long legs back, was strange. Lance couldn’t help feeling naked without a cape of hair on his neck. Maybe he should let his grow out a bit? Not to the level of a mullet, but maybe a tad longer than it was now.

Before he could think more, the doors to his room got slammed open to reveal a face surrounded by short, curly hair, with blue eyes hidden behind glasses staring at him with disbelief.

“Lance Richard McClain!” Veronica, his other sister who had come home for a summer vacation, yelled unholy loud, marching into his room. “How could you?!”

“What…?” Still not awake, Lance stared back at her, his vision partially blocked because of his hair and spots from scrubbing his eyes open. Ignoring his state, Veronica shook him by the collar, continuing her screeching.

“You’ve got a date and didn’t tell me? _ME?!_ Your favorite sister?!”

_What in the name of all that’s holy did Keith do?! I’ve told him to not flirt with anyone! Oh great - now I have to blow off someone, and not in a fun way. I swear, if I meet him in person-_

“And that it’s Allura?! Like _the_ Allura?! The girl you’ve liked since six grade?!”

_-I’ll give him the biggest hug in the world and find him the best boyfriend possible - blessed may be your life, Mullet!_

“Don’t you love me anymore?!”

“Veronica,” trying his hardest to keep his voice even, because he got _a date_ with friggin _Allura Fala,_ Lance pried her hands off of his shirt. “Calm down,” he said in a voice a lot more panicked than hers.

“What are you talking about? I am calm!” As if to contradict this, she hugged him with all the force she possessed. “My little brother is growing up~”

“Haha, very funny.” Being all bones and skin, Lance with ease escaped her deadly hug. The revelation he had had during the last switch found its way to the surface of his sleep deprived brain. Keith was Lance’s friend, however weird their situation may have been, and who Lance would be if he didn’t try to help him in return. If the problem was coming out of the closet, he’d ask the one person he knew recently left it. “Veronica, can I ask you a weird question?”

“I can turn on some porn, to show you how-”

“That’s not it!” Lance punched her playfully in the shoulder, observing how her smitten face changed to irritated. The way she furrowed her brow reminded him of Keith, somehow. “Listen, my friend wants to come out of the closet but has no idea how to tell his mom. Can you give me some advice, so I can pass it on to him?”

Veronica stared at him for a solid three seconds, analyzing his face as if trying to find a secret Lance wasn’t aware of. She eventually shrugged her shoulders, face relaxing back into a smirk.

“Oh~ Is my brother questioning his tastes?”

“Wha-?! No! Hell, no. I’m serious. He’s gay and afraid to tell his mom, which I kind of get - the woman could break three people in half without breaking a sweat.”

“Wow.”

“Indeed.”

“Is she against it?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t look like it but who could ever know. What do you think?”

“If he’s not ready, then he’s not. It took me seven years after discovering it to admit it to our parents. Don’t push him, he’ll do it when he’s ready.”

“Thanks, Veronica.”

“You’re welcome! Now, tell me everything - how did this happen?”

“VERONICA!” A loud thud reached the room alongside the screech of feet in socks sliding across the floor before another face peeked inside. “Lance has a date with ALLURA! _ALLURA!_ ”

“I _know_ , Rachel. _I know_.”

~*~

Reading through the notes left by Keith, Lance got a general gist of the situation. Turns out, Keith had booked tickets for the exhibition of some artist Lance had never heard of. He was used to situations like this - as long as Keith didn’t spend more than half of his pocket money, Lance didn’t mind. Most importantly, Allura agreed to go with him because, somehow - gods know only how - Keith convinced her that she would be interested in seeing ‘the way the atmosphere is portrayed with coal’.

The only thing Lance understood less than science nerds was art nerds.

Oh, well, who cared? Not him, since his dreams came true! Maybe he’d even use date plan number five (which included a lot of art jokes he googled before hand, a dance with a cane and funny hat to catchy song, and pulling her into hug with a dip, only to kiss under a streetlamp)?

Deep in his dreams about the endless possibilities of what may happen, Lance didn’t realize how much time he spent deciding on clothes. If Veronica hadn’t thrown a clock at him, literally, he probably would have spent the whole day in his wardrobe. Finally pulling his outfit together, he ran out, ignoring the looks the rest of the family was sending him. Even his father mumbled something in Spanish, which gained him a smack from his wife. Rachel stayed weirdly quiet, taking a long sip of out of her juicebox, while Veronica rolled her eyes. Only his grandmother seemed to have objections, but ultimately swallowed them down.

~*~

Riding on the train during the rush hours was a disaster and the worst thing that can happen when you live in the city. At this point, Lance might be used to it, but it didn’t change the fact it was one of the least enjoyable things on Earth. Why are there suddenly so many people that have never ever heard of showers and deodorant?! Barbarians!

After getting off the train and walking around for a good twenty minutes since the gallery was hidden in some side street of a side street as if it held all the secrets of the government, Lance finally found the building and Allura, waiting in front of it. Looking at her, he was once again reminded of why he fell for her.

Like her name suggested, she was alluring, and looked even more so in her outfit for the day. Her long white hair fell freely down her back, covered with a pale yellow hat and pink ribbons. The markings under her eyes were upside-down crescent moons, filled with the same pink as her ribbons. A baggy white t-shirt with a blue “V” on the chest barely reached the end of her ribs and showed off her collarbones and muscular midriff. The only thing covering her legs was a long, loose, pink skirt reaching below her knees and a pair of pink heels on her feet, making her the same height as Lance.

Yes, Lance liked how easy it was to talk with her, and how Allura was strong and unafraid to stand up for what she believed in, but the first thing he noticed was her looks. He was only a brat when it happened but goddamn, puberty didn’t let him forget about it.

“Lance!” Allura waved towards him with the hand holding her tiny handbag. “Over here!”

“I’m sorry… f-for,” he stopped in front of her, catching his breath from the run, “making you wait.”

“No problem,” she answered simply with a smile. “I also happened to have problems finding this place. I only got here a minute before you.”

“Then, by all means,” Lance offered his elbow with his best lopsided smile and a wink, “with your permission, Princess?”

Allura giggled at his antics but wrapped one of her arms around his while the other grabbed her skirt to make a quick curtsey.

“Let it commence, then,” she said cheerfully, her smile the brightest Lance had ever seen.

With red cheeks, a smile stretching over his face, and butterflies in his gut, Lance entered the building with the girl of his dreams by his side. He continued to thank all of his ancestors along the way, wondering why Keith’s face popped into his mind as well.

_Right, he must have wanted to see this. It’s not my fault the swap didn’t happen today. Sorry, man! Ugh, why the heck am I apologizing for being in my OWN body, for god’s sake?! Fine! I’ll buy you a picture or two but not an expensive one! I can’t afford it with my pocket money! And why am I thinking about stupid mullet-for-brains on my date?!_

Once Lance decided to ignore his inner voice, he felt a thousand times better. Keith wasn’t the problem at hand, just something to hide in the box labeled “For Later” and to deal with at an unspecified future time - like always.

Allura kept pointing at different drawings, pulling his attention towards particular details he normally would have missed.

“I didn’t know you liked coal.”

“I much prefer watercolors,” Allura said to him, stopping next to another work with a hill and lonely tree on top of it, “but I am aware of how hard it is to create something so vivid and emotional, especially using only black.”

Lance hummed, staring at the work in front of him. He recognized this place - it was the hill Shiro took him to, where they buried a box under the tree. There was even a bit of the lake in the background and a few buildings he knew by heart by now. Okay, this one was going with him.

“How much do you think it costs?”

“The ones from earlier were somewhere between 50 to 80 but this one I am sure would be… at least 150.”

“Yikes.”

_Oh, well...I am a man of my word. You better be happy about it, Mullet._

_~*~_

After they decided to leave the exhibition, and in Lance’s case also leaving behind more than half of his money, a visit at a nearby coffee shop seemed like the best idea. Noticing the state of his wallet, Allura decided to cover their bill and wouldn’t accept any objection to it. With a sigh and a glare towards the picture he bought, Lance resigned himself to the simplest coffee with milk.

Normally, people staring at him didn’t faze him, but there was something different in the way Allura looked at him. It was as if he was a puzzle she had just solved, but she wasn’t happy with the result. It wasn’t intrigued, as though she would like to try it again, but rather resigned, and honestly Lance could hardly stand it. When half of her coffee along with the strawberry cheesecake had disappeared, she finally spoke.

“Lance, I may be wrong, but I have a feeling you like me as a lot more than a friend.”

“I-yes. Yeah, I like you. A lot. Like you a lot.”

“And that was going on for quite a long time, am I correct?” Lance nodded once, not looking at her, focusing on the red cord around his wrist. “So that _was_ how you felt, huh.”

“Was?”

“The thing is, you don’t like me anymore. Not like that, at least,” a nostalgic smile painted Allura’s pretty face with guilt, while Lance’s contorted with confusion. “I noticed that you seemed different these past few months. I can honestly say I enjoyed my conversations with you, even when you kept stubbornly repeating how _GoLion_ only had six seasons not eight. I get the last ones were- well, forget about it. There are different things at hand that matter a lot more.”

“Allura, I don’t get-”

“You are already in love with someone else, are you not?”

Lance stiffened, at once stopping from playing with the handmade elastic on his wrist.

“I had a conversation with Pidge few days ago. They said you’re making a cord for some friend of yours and are all secretive about it. I am not one to pry, but it would not be fair to either of us to start a relationship while you love someone else.”

“...”

“I’m sorry, Lance, but it had to be done.”

Allura stood up, graceful as always, and exited the coffee shop, leaving Lance alone with her words to digest. He sent her off with his eyes but his body didn’t possess enough power to get up. Lance stared at the doors, contemplating the words of the girl he once loved so much.

Yes, he was different because of the swaps - hard to stay the same when you have to share your life with an emo teenager.

Yes, he did make a cord for Keith, but he also made ones for Pidge and Hunk. The only reason he was keeping quiet about it was because he didn’t know how he would explain it.

Yes, he spent almost all of his money on this drawing, so that Keith wouldn’t be sad he had missed the exhibition.

Lance was a good friend. He always was.

But in love? With Keith? Of all people?

The guy who had no idea how to take care of himself except for the not-so-rare occasions when he got a scar from a fight (noticeably less over the past few months, when he started to listen to Lance and limited himself to glares)? With the temperament of a wild lion (although on the inside he was more of a half-domesticated cat)? Hot headed like a damn forest fire? The same one who dressed himself in only black until Lance showed up? And who, for some reason, kept a mullet on his head?

And yet, he was the same one who stood up for him when his teacher yelled that Lance wasn’t worth a thing. Who always stole chocolate bars from his secret stash just because he found it and loved chocolate. The guy who looked like he could kill you but in reality was incredibly shy and emotional, who loved his mom, brother-figure, and dog more than anything else. The same one who didn’t mind sacrificing himself if it meant the people he loves are happy.

The only one who had witnessed all of Lance’s ups and downs this year and had given him the best support he was capable of.

The only guy who, ironically, was inside of Lance and the only one Lance was inside, too.

Lance kept thinking about it all day, not even reacting to his family’s teasing when he finally came back home. For the rest of the day he moved like a zombie, only to fall face first into his pillows when night fell.

Laying there, listening to cars driving by under the window, Lance came to three solid conclusions.

First, his feelings for Allura, once so strong, were currently nowhere to be found.

Second, Pidge’s theory was right and gays DO indeed walk in packs.

Third, unwillingly and without noticing it, he had fallen in love with Keith, and now he had to work it out with him.

What Lance didn’t know was the very last switch just happened, and he would not be given another opportunity to live as Keith.

~*~

Keith had just spent three hours in front of the mirror, and the whole time he was in his own body. It wasn’t even Lance’s influence, although now he was using more creams than ever in his life -- but he’d never admit that out loud. The reason he kept staring at himself was simple: he was preparing himself to talk with his mother. Lotor and the rest of his gang wouldn’t stop pestering him about coming out, so to gain back some peace he decided it was about time. Ezor left him with some tips, while betting with Acxa about when it’d happen. Whatever - Keith didn’t care! But they had a bit of a point; it was about time to tell his mother.

_Okay, you got this. You can do this. You change places with a random guy from far, far, far away. The guy is the most annoying yet sweet person you know, with gorgeous eyes, and the only person outside Shiro who knows everything about you - stop, that’s not important now. Krolia is your mother - she loves you and will accept you, no matter what. It’s just one more person to know. Shiro knows. Lance knows. Lotor and his girl-band know, even though it was an accident. Nothing bad will happen._

Something soft hit his ankle, startling the poor boy enough that he jumped in place. Dog was staring at him with big, worried orange eyes. Keith petted it on the head, assuring the animal that there was nothing wrong with him. The pet, still not convinced, nuzzled the side of its head into Keith’s thigh. The dog had sure grown a lot since they brought him home. What was once a tiny puppy now was the size of a young wolf. And equally fluffy. Keith couldn’t have asked for a better companion.

Once again looking into the mirror, Keith forced all the air out of his lungs before turning his back to his reflection. A trembling hand pushed down on his doorknob, and he left his little sanctuary to enter the living room.

His mom was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper, dressed in a white button-up shirt and jersey with purple slippers on her feet - the perfect picture of ‘I have two more hours before I leave’, with which Keith was well too accustomed. She didn’t move an inch when he entered the room.

“Mom…”

Krolia looked up from the paper, putting it down as soon as she noticed the look on her son’s face. “What happened? Did anyone hurt you?”

“No, that’s not it.” Keith crossed arms over his chest, moving uncomfortably in place. If it weren’t for the dog sleeping in the doorway, he would run away. But the only route of escape was upstairs, which still meant passing by his mother. _Okay - you can’t die twice, here goes nothing_.

“Can we… talk? I want to tell you something.”

She patted the spot next to her, urging him to come closer. “Of course.”

Keith moved forward, sitting next to her but not close enough to touch. Her black eyes kept scanning him but not impatiently, waiting to hear what he wanted to say. Suddenly, all his mirror prep was forgotten.

“Mom, I have to confess something.”

“Did you murder anyone?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.”

“Are you going to run away and get married in Vegas?”

“What?! No! Mom!”

“Well, you look so distressed, I was sure it had to be one of those.”

_Why does everyone ask about murder first?_

“It-It’s not. Actually, there’s something you should know.”

“That you’re gay?”

“Wha-?! How?!”

“Keith, I’m your mother,” she stated as plainly as possible, staring at Keith with a bored expression. “I’m genetically programed to sense that stuff. Also, we may not be close but I can see when my child has a crush.” She sent him a playful smirk, ignoring how he blushed as red as a tomato and how his mouth hung agape. A chuckle escaped her as she pulled a wild strand of his long hair behind ear. “You had days when you acted differently for no reason or had your head up in clouds.”

_Because I had a completely different person in my body who acted like a total idiot and spent almost all my money on cosmetics._

“Come on, you actually brush your hair - that was a dead giveaway.”

That… That was true and Keith had no excuse whatsoever. Okay, Lance started the whole ponytail thing, but it was Keith who continued to use conditioner and bought a new comb. It was partially so Lance would shut up about it, but Keith had to admit it looked better now. He had actually listened to a guy he never saw in person. How did that happen? When did Lance became so important to him?

“...”

“Keith?”

“You’re … not disappointed?”

Krolia raised her eyebrows in surprise, withdrawing the hand that was on his face.

“Why would I be?”

“Everyone keeps saying I’m not worth a thing and how unlucky dad was to have me,” Keith said in a somber tone. Hugging knees to his chest, he avoided looking into his mother’s eyes, too scared she would second-guess her beliefs and reject him that very moment. “How it’s disappointing he never had another kid. I know they don’t like you very much but at least they’re scared of you, while I’m here as the symbol of this town’s biggest disappointment.”

“And I don’t care what any of them say - it’s one of the reasons they fear me. Immune to gossip.”

“Yeah, but there’s some truth to it. You and dad didn’t have another child. Aren’t you disappointed your only son will never bring a girl home?”

“To be honest, I’m kinda sad I won’t be able to paint my nails with your future girlfriend, but that’s about it.” The newspaper swished as it was laid down, so Krolia could take her son’s face in both hands and look into his eyes. “If you will be happy, I will be happy. Nothing will ever change that. Fuck what anyone else says.”

“… do you think dad would mind?”

She let go of his face to look at the swords on the mantle with a smile. Keith couldn’t help noticing yearning and sadness in her eyes, probably for a time that had passed long ago.

“Did I ever tell you why we named you Keith?”

“No?”

“Well, me and your dad met at a convention. I was dressed up as an alien warrior, all done with purple body paint, and he was a space trooper. We were the only people in costumes for that series so we stuck together through the whole Con.” His parents were cosplayers. That was information Keith had never expected to hear in his life, but it did explain one mystery: there _was_ a reason why his mom had different colored hair in some older photos. “After that, he invited me for a coffee, which says a lot when you leave with six bags of merchandise.” That’s true. He spent enough time with Shiro to have heard him complaining that he was out of money because he had bought another useless thing from the _GoLion Official Store_. Also, holy shit - how did his father manage to get _six_ bags?!

“Not long after that we started dating and eventually got married. When we knew you were on the way, we decided to smash our names together - just like people do within fandoms. Mine, Krolia, and his, Heath, together made Keith.” She smiled warmly but her eyes were glossy, as if she were trying her hardest not to cry. “You are the symbol of our love - I’ll never forget it.”

“ … ”

“Your dad was a rare romantic. For him love was love, a wonderful feeling between two people capable of bringing joy but also pain. I doubt he would say anything bad. He probably would have bet with me when you were going to come out and how.”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh - so hard, in fact, that tears came to his eyes.

“You were such dorks.”

Krolia didn’t say a thing, just shrugged her shoulders as if she was conceding that indeed, it was true. But she was also a mother and that meant she still had a job to do, and that was embarrassing her child and gaining as much information as possible.

“Speaking of dorks - what’s his name?”

“Who?”

“The boy who keeps sending you messages.”

The shock of having it said straight to his face was so sudden that it knocked the air out of Keith’s lungs and pushed all the blood to his face. Why did this keep happening to him?! First Lotor and his gang, then his mom. He does _not_ have a crush on Lance. Yeah, the guy was cute, and funny, and hot, and endearingly dorky, and supported him and cared about his well-being … oh crap, he’s crushing on Lance.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you stare at your phone.”

“It’s … it’s nothing, really,” Keith shrugged it off, like always. After all, there was nothing to talk about. Well, there was, but he could never tell it to anyone. “He has a girlfriend, sort of.”

“You can’t ‘sort of’ have someone. He either has or not.”

“...”

Lance did go on a date with Allura. It should be today but … maybe there was still a chance to tell him how he felt? It probably would only further complicate their already tangled relationship, but what was there to lose? Keith wasn’t one to pretend, and if he wanted to say something, he simply did. That’s one of the reasons people came to dislike him in the first place. But Lance was too good to hate him. Maybe it would be awkward but at least he’d have it off his chest.

“Keith?”

“I have an awful idea.”

“Nothing new. Do you need a shovel and a bag?”

“Just a bag will do.” Keith stood up with a fierce gaze, ready to take action. “I’m going on a trip.”

~*~

“Lance, are you in there?” Rachel called from behind closed doors. Her hand lingered in the air, hesitant to push them open. The question itself was stupid, Lance hadn’t left his room in five days. No one knew what was going on. At first they assumed it was because of Allura’s rejection, but when he denied mom’s _dulce de leche_ cookies it became crystal clear that the case was much deeper than that. No matter how hard the break up was, Lance would always swallow down any sweets bestowed upon him, even plums in white chocolate, which he hated like nothing else. Rachel sighed, leaving a tray with empanadas and lemonade on the floor next to the door. “I brought some food. At least eat if you’re going to brood for the next few days!”

Listening as her steps got quieter, when he could no longer hear them, Lance stood up from his bed, pushing the covers aside. Opening the doors just enough to fit the tray between them, he pulled the food inside. Sitting in his chair and staring idly at the messy desk, he started to chew it absentmindedly. The only reason he ate was to silence his stomach. He would have eaten paper if it would have helped; they tasted similar anyway.

It had already been a week since his date with Allura and he hadn’t switched with Keith since then. It had never happened before. The breaks between switching hadn’t lasted for longer than two days, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing. What hurt him the most was the lack of communication. No matter how many emails he sent, Keith never answered back.

Once again, Lance unlocked his phone to scroll through all the messages.

_Keith, I just got rejected :(((( Please send me some photos of your dog so I can feel better_

_Hello, Earth to Keith. Is that mullet stopping you from texting me?_

_Buddy, seriously write something. I’m worried, are you okay?_

_Keith Kogane, if you don’t write me in the next hour I’m packing my stuff and taking the train to you!_

_Haha, got you! I don’t have cash. I spend it on a gift for you ;P Write me back soon, okay?_

_Hey, I know it sounds stupid but do you think this whole switching just stopped? It’s the fourth day and nothing happened. Maybe it’s finally over?_

_Did I do something wrong? I swear I didn’t hit on any girls or that idiot Griffin. Are you mad at me? Say something_

_I’m sorry. Keith, are you there?_

_Keith, please. Write me something. Anything. Please_

He stopped when he couldn’t read any more, eyes blurred from tears. It was no news that both of them wished for the switch to end, but did Keith also decide to forget about him? And here Lance thought they had become friends. Stupid Keith and his stupid mullet.

“And to think I fell for him …”

“For who, my sweet little brother?” Veronica asked in a sweet voice, unaffected by Lance’s (thankfully empty) plate clattering to the floor as he leapt off his chair in fright. “And did I hear a male pronoun?”

“Veronica!”

“Veronica~Veroonica~Verooonicaaaaa~” she sang, ignoring the outraged look on her brother’s face and approaching him to put her hands on Lance’s shoulders. “Come on! You’ve been sitting here for a week, ignoring me and reruns of _Blanco Rosales y Azul Cabaña._ You never miss it unless you’re feeling as bad as Batman when he lost his parents.”

“They showed reruns? Shit, I wanted to watch how Rosita and Javier go through all the tropes from neighbours to enemies to awkward friends to lovers, while Diego Alvaro and Benicio try not to destroy the village ... and Elvira is just so done with it all and smacks Evelia for getting involved with them again.”

“You’re lucky, they haven’t aired the one with ocean festival yet,” the two of them giggled, remembering how they used to sit in front of the TV as kids and try to follow the plot. There were still five of them back then, living in one small flat. Now, the show served as a memory of the times they were always together, before the eldest moved out and their visits almost never overlapped. Eventually Veronica kneeled next to Lance, leveling her equally blue eyes with his. “What happened?”

“Veronica … I have a crush.”

“On Allura, I know. We all know.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No, I mean - yes. On her too.” Lance shifted uncomfortably in his chair, casting his eyes sideways. “But, there is a chance - not a big one, but still - that I may like also one more person.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Remember the guy I told you about?”

“The one who didn’t know how to come out? Yeah, what about him?”

“It’s him.”

“... wait, are you coming out to me now?!”

“I don’t know, Veronica!” Before he could be stopped, Lance started rumbling with a speed of a machine gun. “I think I like him but … we’ve never met. We only talk through emails. That’s stupid! How can you fall for someone you never met before? We don’t even call each other! That shouldn’t be possible!”

“That’s the issue?” Veronica stopped the neverending flow of words with a pinch of her brother’s cheek. “Distance? Not him being a guy?”

“I was surprised too,” Lance admitted once she let go of him. “I mean - I was shocked at first. Me? Into him? I might get it if he were some Ryan Gosling or Tom Ellis clone.”

“Yeah, he’s sexy…” Veronica agreed dreamily with a nod. She may not swing that way, but she still had eyes - four to be precise - and they knew what ‘sexy’ was when they saw it.

“But he’s just … a good guy with a bad hairstyle and daddy issues who likes astronomy and dogs. I mean, why him? Why did I realize I’m bi because of someone like him?”

“I had the same questions. ‘She’s just a nice girl who likes books, not a cheerleader or a gymnast. Why her?! She’s not even into girls.’ I thought about it for a long time,” Veronica confessed, sitting on Lance’s bed, only slightly disgusted by the state of it, “until I decided that in the end, it didn’t matter.”

“What?”

“I fell for her because I liked her personality and appearance _and_ was into girls - plain and simple.” She shrugged her shoulders, sighing with nostalgia. “The rest didn’t matter. It hurt a lot, getting used to it and having my first heartbreak, but I survived. I am who I am because I learned from that and accepted myself.”

“Do you think I can do that now?”

“You’re my brother, of course you can.”

“Thanks, Ronnie.”

“Is that why you’re locked yourself up?”

“No. Not exactly. He hasn’t written to me in five days. It’s never happened before. I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you visit him and talk?”

“I don’t know where he lives,” Lance admitted, looking down at his knees. In the corner of his eye, however, he noticed the long tube containing the sketch he had bought. “Or do I…”

~*~

Snacks, magazines, some clothes, a couple of water bottles, his phone - all of it and more was stuffed inside the traveling bag on Lance’s shoulder while he carried the tube with the sketch. He had called Hunk to take his shifts in the shop and canceled movie tickets with Pidge. Lance McClain was officially ready to take off and start a journey. There were so many things he had to talk over with Keith, and since he wouldn’t kindly answer an email it was up to Lance to find him. The only problem was that he didn’t have much of a plan. His only hint to finding this idiot was the picture he bought, with the hill Shiro had taken him to. It wasn’t much but should do for a start. Yeah, easier said than done.

But most importantly --

“There you are!” Pidge yelled from the platform.

“We were so worried we missed each other,” added Allura, standing next to her. Both of them dressed up in jersey jackets, green and pink respectively, and with big bags on their backs.

Two of Lance’s friends had decided to, literally, jump onto a random train with him. How they managed to get here before him was a mystery.

“What are you doing here?” Lance incredulously asked the two ladies, who looked way too pleased with themselves.

“Going on a quest with you!” sing-sang Allura in response, putting a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

“Eh?”

“What she means,” Pidge chipped in, adjusting their glasses, “is that we’re going with you to meet your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a guy with whom I’d like to settle a few things … and have a crush on.”

“Lance, please.” Allura pulled out of her bag a few packs of sweets from their shop. “I’ve already bought snacks for all of us.”

“Is that, are _those_ plums in white chocolate in your hand?!”

“But of course!”

“I’m glad we’re not dating.”

“If you won’t let us join you,” Pidge pulled out their phone from an inside pocket, “I’ll upload all your bad covers of Disney songs online.”

“Ugh, fine. Just be quiet.”

“Yay!” The two chered and high-fived before boarding with him. Pidge crammed the phone back into their backpack, keeping the blackmail videos where they belonged for now.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Uh, okay, then - where did we get tickets to?”

“Arus.”

“I know that place! They sell wonderful cheese rolls and have a dance festival!”

“We aren’t on a school trip, Allura!”

“Party pooper…”

~*~

They had to make three train changes before they finally reached Arus. All the while they talked, joked, ate snacks, and avoided the elephant named Keith. When they finally reached their destination, it was already late afternoon. Too tired to actually start searching that night, they decided in unison to cram into a motel. Renting a room turned out to be a problem because of a “separate genders unless married” policy. Allura used her way with words, convincing the owner that she and Lance were cousins and that Pidge was his younger half-sibling. It took her an hour and a half but eventually they got a tiny room on the second floor with two beds. They began unpacking their things and Pidge, not wasting any time, ran as fast as possible to the shower, locking the door behind them.

That left Allura and Lance sitting in uncomfortable silence. They had split up on good terms but it still was awkward to be together in one room with no third party. When the silence was too heavy to bear, Allura extended a hand holding a pack of oranges in chocolate, Lance’s favorites from their shop, with a tiny smile.

“Thanks,” Lance said, accepting the gift. He put one into his mouth, smiling with satisfaction as chocolate and orange juice coated his tongue. He loved them, that’s for sure, but even the best sweets couldn’t settle the anxiety he had now. “Allura, why are you here?”

“...”

“Forget it. You don’t have to answer.”

“I knew you had feelings for me. I knew about it for a long time but decided to ignore it. I convinced myself you would outgrow them and that the whole flirting was just for show. I did not realize I was leading you on this whole time, so I want to make up for my actions and help you out as the good friend that I was supposed to be.”

“Don’t you mean cousin?”

“Maybe you’re right,” they both laughed, finally letting some of the weight off their shoulders. It was still awkward but at least they could talk without a buffer and that meant a lot.

“Can I still call you Princess?”

“You are aware it is my internet nickname?”

“How could I _ever_ forget…”

“Hey, Lance - tell me more about this boy.”

“Well … he’s stupid and rushes into action without thinking. He knows how to treat wounds because he often starts fights and leaves with a lot of damage. And he’s a nerd; he watches _a lot_ of this old cartoon _GoLion_.”

“I think I would like to meet him.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Pidge entered the room with damp hair and in a green bathrobe, glasses hanging on the belt. “Stop what you’re doing and get in there while the water’s still hot.”

~*~

If Lance was the one complaining about other people slacking off, then the situation was indeed dire. Seriously, he was the only one trying to find some clues about how to get to Keith’s town while Allura and Pidge went off doing, well, something - he wasn’t even sure what. Oh, but _now_ it was clear: a bunch of stupid photos as a pretext to talk with the restaurant owner. Okay, the guy was hot and had wonderful, long, nearly white hair, but for the sake of all that’s holy, Allura, keep it together! It was not the time to find a booty call! Oh great, now they’re giggling together. Get a room! Were they eye-fucking now?! Oh, come _on_!

“Stop it,” Pidge reprimanded him, with a kick to the shin.

“Ay! What are you talking about?!”

“Green only looks good on me.”

“What?”

“Stop acting like a jealous ex and staring daggers at them.”

“You do realize she’s my ex, right?”

“Oh, right,” Pidge realized with a look of shock across their features. It didn’t last long but they had still been a couple for a second! How dare this tiny creature forget that? “Between you two, is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, isn’t it awkward? I would have come anyway but Allura insisted on tagging along and I didn’t know what to do-”

“Hey, relax buddy.” Lance laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, shaking it a little. “It’s okay now, we just needed time to adjust. Besides, all guys have a weird first-love complex and never one hundred percent forget their first girlfriend.”

“How about boyfriends?”

“I’m willing to check it out.”

“Great, then what’re you going to do now?”

With a puckish smile, Lance opened the tube and presented Pidge with the sketch, ignoring the blank expression he was given in return.

“Nice. What does it have to do with the mission, the ‘Getting Bi Trip’?”

“Nice reference.”

“Thanks, oh great Bi-Prince.”

“I am a Prince, you’re right. This,” Lance pointed at the picture, or more accurately at the houses in it, “is the town we’re looking for.”

“Really?! Why aren’t we there?!”

“Because, the artist didn’t specify exactly where he drew it - only that it was an area surrounding Arus.” False; Lance remembered people talking about going to Arus on weekend trips or for shopping during some of the switches. There had been no information whatsoever about where the illustration was made.

“Didn’t the guy tell you were he lives?”

“Nope.” In the emails they had exchanged, neither one ever mentioned where they lived but Lance was sure Keith had figured out where he was. There weren’t that many cities with technology on streets like Neo-Altea. Lance, unfortunately, didn’t have that much luck. There was not a single place where Keith’s town’s name was on display and even if there was, he had forgotten it during the switch. That happened sometimes, not to mention that his own memory wasn’t that great after all. “This sketch is my only clue.”

“Great…”

“Hey, can you scan it and look through maps-”

“Maps don’t have pictures from this angle.”

“Then we have to do it the old-fashioned way: ask strangers if they know where it is.”

“I’m sorry it took so long~” Allura chirped, finally sliding onto the seat in front of them. Her face still was stretched out into a smile. Even Pidge had to admit it's nauseating effect, pretending to throw up at the sight. Allura, unmoved, took a bite of her roll. “I had a nice chat with the gentleman there.”

“We noticed,” Lance and Pidge said simultaneously, while Allura absolutely did not react and continued chewing her snack.

“He promised to show me the area later.”

“Lovely…” mumbled Lance, sipping his apple juice through straw fast enough to put ice cubes into swirl. “Now, can you help me find this place?”

“Oh! I may ask him for help!”

“ _Dios mio…”_

“I’ve never understood someone’s pain as I do now,” commented Pidge, before Lance offered his fist to bump. “Neuroscience, you let me down for the last time.”

Allura eventually came back, leading over said guy by the arm. At least he had the decency to look ashamed.

“Mr Sincline, can you tell us if you recognize this place by any chance?” Allura asked in the sweetest voice Lance ever heard, pointing at the picture in his hands. The guy took a look for no longer than five seconds before speaking.

“I do, actually. This was the town of my birth.”

“For real?!” Pidge yelled in disbelief their eyes bouncing from the guy, to the picture, to Lance before the two of them jumped in the air with joy.

“Yes!”

“Allura, you're a genius!”

“Oh my, don’t thank me,” she cooed, smiling warmly at her two friends before facing her prey. “Mr Sincline, thank you for your cooperation. Would you possibly show us the way there?”

“I would recommend not going there.”

“And why is that?”

“Marmora and the surrounding area has been closed since the earthquake.”

“What earthquake?” Lance didn’t remember anyone mentioning an earthquake, much less warning signs or restraints for the residents.

“The one that destroyed town a few years ago,” the strange man said in a grave voice, and Lance felt like the ground was sliding away under his feet.

_What on Earth is going on here…_

He didn’t remember much about what happened next. One second he was standing in front of the shop and the next he was riding in a car with the weird guy at the wheel. The voices around him were buzzing, blending in with the whirling of the engine. He didn’t registered much of what was going on, only some scraps of conversation.

“...the biggest catastrophe in the region…”

“...almost the whole town’s population perished…”

“...all my friends were inside the planetarium…”

“...it made it to the news…”

Ah, it was too loud.

Too much noise.

Lance sunk into darkness and the peace it provided, ignoring how he still had to take care of everything that had been revealed.

He didn’t wake up until Allura shook him. Lance looked around, disoriented, seeing only a bunch of trees and a metal fence with yellow caution tape warning ‘DO NOT ENTER’. What were they doing here?

“We’re here. The town is below.”

On shaky legs, Lance got out of the car and slowly walked to the fence. His heart skipped a few beats, eager to see what was there. The school he walked to. The shops he visited. The park in which he took Keith’s dog for a walk. The house he would wake up in. The building where he worked.

But when he looked down - there was nothing. Only a giant hole with crumbles of asphalt, metal pipes and scavenging seagulls.

_W-What’s that? This … can’t be true … I remember this hill. There should be a parking lot below it where Keith rides his bike. And there?! There should be the school grounds with kids still playing there at this time. And over there Rolo had his workshop. He should still be working on that Mercedes. And there should be street leading to Shiro’s neighbourhood. A shady street full of motor gangs. Weren’t they going to make racings tomorrow? Where is Keith’s house? Where’s the shops I loved to visit? Where’s the restaurant that Keith and Shiro always eat at?! Where’s everything that I saw there?!_

“This can’t be…”

“I agree, it does not look good,” Mr Sincline concurred, looking sadly at the remnants. “I wish for nothing more than for everything to change it but I am afraid it’s impossible.”

“When did this happen?” Lance asked, barely audible even to himself. Their guide tapped his chin with his forefinger a few times before answering him.

“Two, three years ago? It’s hard to pinpoint anymore.”

“...what? Years?”

“Yes, why are surprised?”

“Shouldn’t it be days?”

“I am pretty sure I remember when I had to bid goodbye to all my friends, forever.”

“But! It can’t be!” Lance pulled out his phone, scrolling through his messages with Keith. The last one was from eight days ago.

_“Whatever you say. I’m going to the planetarium tomorrow. Don’t act like an idiot with Shiro or he won’t take me there.”_

Where it is, where?! Here! The 9th of July! Keith couldn’t have sent him these messages last week if he was dead for at least two years. They must have been in a different town … that looks just like the one Keith lives in. That was the only explanation.

“See! We talked-what? What’s going on?!”

Before his eyes, letters started changing into numbers or blank boxes before they disappeared, dissolving the message he was staring at. And then the next. And the next. And another one. All their messages vanished, until only big letters spelling NO MESSAGES IN FILE: _MULLET_ were left. Dread coursed through Lance. And then another text popped up: FILE: _MULLET_ HAS BEEN DELETED. He hadn’t pushed any buttons. Pidge wasn’t holding a single thing in their hands. Allura and her date just stared at him with confusion.

How could he have lost all the messages from…

From …

From?

Huh, strange …

What was his name …?

~*~

A cloud of dust flew into the air as Allura sat down at the table next to Pidge’s computer. Their team had just spent the last two hours in the archive of the nearest library, rummaging through a bunch of documents about the earthquake. There wasn’t much to read about. It was a tragic incident, yes, but just in a small town. Most people died instantly due to crumbling buildings. The few that survived were either out in open space or on the top floors, which reduced their injuries. The biggest body count was at the place where the planetarium used to be - an awful number of 5,818.

“How long has he been sitting there?” Allura asked, watching Lance stare blankly at the paper in front of him.

“Forty minutes or so. What did you give him?”

“... the list of victims.”

Without moving a single muscle, Lance sat in his chair and stared at the names of the people he had come to know. Their names had numbers in brackets listing their ages.

Beezer, Rolo (34)

Beezer, Nyma (27)

Char, Zethrid (18)

Daibazaal, Zarkon (43)

Générale, Ezor (18)

Griffin, James (18)

The Beezer cousins he worked for. The girls he hung out with. The guy who hated him. The mob king and father of one of Keith’s friend. They were all dead?

He turned more pages, eventually stumbling upon another name he recognized.

Thayserix-Weblum, Acxa (17)

She didn’t make it out, either. But there was still hope. He went way ahead in the list, up to ‘S’, still optimistic. Then, he saw two more familiar surnames.

Sanda, Ellen (58)

Shirogane, Takashi (22)

The school director and Shiro. He also didn’t make it. But nothing was truly lost. He hadn’t seen the ‘K’s yet. Everything was still up in the air. Lance hoped so until he reached the page. His eyes were easily drawn to the surname he was the most afraid to see staring back at him. It was perfectly black on the white page.

Kogane, Keith (18)

Kogane, Krolia (39)

The scary woman that had made him breakfast, who loved her mullet-wielding son … and the son himself was dead, too.

Everyone he knew there was dead.

How?

How it was possible?

Lance kept asking himself the same question, staring blindly at the pages with the names of victims, feeling tears surge in his eyes.

_You stupid mullet … how dare you die before I got to see you. That’s selfish, you know? I hate you. I really … really hate … you …_

Lance eventually closed the book and, without a word, went back to their motel room. His friends only sent him off with their eyes, too shaken by his heartbroken face to actually move. It didn’t last for long, though. By the time he had left the building, he had already forgotten the name that drove him into such a state.

“Do you think there is any scientific explanation for this shit?” Pidge was the first to speak in the somber atmosphere.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Allura put a piece of gum into her mouth . “I do not think there’s any way to send emails to the past. Unless we talk about that one anime series ...”

“At first, I had a theory that someone lied to him and gave a false name, but there’s no evidence of the IP address in his phone. Everything got deleted and it wasn’t done by someone outside. Not to mention, too many tiny details match reality.” Pidge blew air out of their lungs in a long exhale, pushing some documents to the other end of the table. “If it continues like this, I will be forced to believe in one of their superstitions.”

Later that evening, Lance sat on the windowsill drinking a can of juice and trying to not think about a single thing other than that this trip was awful. He wouldn’t have spent his hard-earned money if he knew it would end up like this. Pidge didn’t even suggest watching some shitty movie on their laptop. Worst. Field trip. Ever.

“I’m sorry.” Allura’s charming voice knocked his tired thoughts away. Well, whatever. She would go off and have some fun with Grape Guy (what else he was supposed to call a guy who wore purple from head to toe?) or something. “I know you had high hopes coming here.”

“Hmm, did I?”

“What I wanted to convey is, I think-”

_Please, don’t make this into a ‘we can be friends’ speech. No one who said that has actually remained friends._

“Aah. I wish I got to see you handing over that cord.”

“Cord?”

“Yes. The red one you have on your left wrist?”

Lance followed her finger with his eyes, finding the cord on his wrist. Huh? Had it always been there? … No, he had made it recently. As a gift. And this one was different. It wasn’t a bracelet, it was-

“The hair elastic?”

“Oh, is it not a bracelet? My bad.”

Yes, he made it. He made it as a gift. For who? For someone important. For someone he wanted to see. He came here to see them. But who? Who was it? The name ... what was their name? How could he have forgotten?! What was it?! What was their name?! What was the name of the person with long hair for whom he had made this?!

He looked outside -- and then he saw it again. The hill with a giant tree. The one he once hiked up. Not as himself, but at the same time it was him. It was as that person! That person! And their name was-

“Keith!”

Not wasting any time, Lance threw away his half-full soda can and ran outside, grabbing his jacket along the way. Behind him, he heard his friends’ voices, but paid them no mind; he had a mission to complete. A mission to meet with one, stupid, stubborn mullet.

He didn’t noticed Allura’s date near the entrance on his frantic way out , who sent him a curious look over his smartphone, open to a photo album of his deceased friends. The photos showed a goth girl with a pair of horn-like hairclips, a tall girl with long, red hair in a ponytail with a bunch of blue and yellow elastics, and her even taller girlfriend with fluffy hair and a muscular build, giving off a masculine air. And lastly, a tiny but fit boy with long, dark hair in a red shirt with a sour expression on his Asian features.

“Lance, wait!” Two seconds later Allura stomped down the stairs on bare feet, trying to stop her friend from running out. She was too late even to see the door closing behind him.

“What has gotten into him?”

“I have no idea. Just a second ago he simply looked down…”

“Should we look for him?”

“...no. He’ll come back when the rain starts.”

“As you wish, Ms Fala,” he said, offering his elbow. She took it with a faint smile and a blush on her dark cheeks.

“Call me Allura, please.”

“Then you shall call me Lotor, too.”

~*~

The rain had started to pour down when Lance finally reached the far mountain. He didn’t give it much thought other than pulling on his hood and letting out a curse or two when he slipped on mud and grass. By some miracle he eventually reached its peak, finding shelter under the enormous branches of a tree. The dirt didn’t indicate where the box could be, but it didn’t discourage him. If the stories he had heard countless times before meant anything, he might still be able to see Keith again. Heck, he had been switching bodies with him for a year. What would one more ritual mean?

He knelt on the ground and begged all the entities he knew to listen. God, spirits, forest ghosts - it didn’t matter as long they listened to his prayers. All he needed was one more time, just once, to see Keith and be able to tell him how he felt. To be able to share his thoughts and realizations of how much he had changed in the year they had spent together. To argue and fight like they always did, only to laugh it off later.

But all the divine entities denied him and his begging, leaving his pathetic figure in the mud and probably finding it funny - as gods would.

Lance eventually stood up, defeated. To be honest, he didn’t even know what he was waiting for. After all, what did he expect? Some sort of mystical ray of light that would answer all of his questions? He was stupid to even come here. The only thing he wanted was to give Keith this hair tie.

But it was too late.

“Idiot.”

Lance cursed one more time, his throat clenching from tears, and began getting ready to climb down and walk back to the motel. On his way, however, he slipped on the wet and matted grass and hit head on the ground -- exactly in the spot the box was hidden.

In this particular second, three things happened at once.

First, Lance saw a bright light from between the leaves of the tree.

Second, memories that did not belong to him played out before his very eyes.

Third, he finally understood why Keith often acted like a wounded animal.

_“Your name will be Yorak,” said a woman with long, purple hair to the child she held in her arms. Sitting next to her, a familiar man sent her uneasy look._

_“How about Keith?” he suggested, brushing dark hair out of the newborn child’s eyes._

_“Keith?”_

_“You know - ‘K’ from Krolia, ‘eith’ from Heath. Keith.”_

_“You want to name our child the nickname your friends gave us?”_

_“Is it bad? It’s almost like a ship name.”_

_“Keith?” the woman said once more, tasting the name on her tongue before nodding. “Okay. I like that.”_

_The man let out a quiet sigh of relief, playing with a silver necklace around his neck. Lance recognized the logo from one of Keith’s CDs. Some old rock band, The Blades or something._

_“Dad, look!” A tiny boy, maybe six or seven years old, was dressed up in cardboard colored in with red crayon and was yelling from the top of a tree._

_“Keith!” the man from earlier shrieked in terror, staring at the kid standing there like it was nothing dangerous. “What are you doing here?!”_

_“James said I wouldn’t get on top! But I did!”_

_“Okay? Why do you have cardboard on?!”_

_“Shiro wanted to play Paladins!”_

_“Shiro!” the man yelled at an older boy who was laying on the nearby lawn with a blade of grass in his mouth, observing the situation with amusement. He also had cardboard armor but it was painted black.“Why didn’t you stop him?!”_

_“I tried,” complained the boy, looking at the man with tired eyes. “He got away.”_

_“Keith, look - do you know what that is?” The man pointed at a red dot in the dark night sky. Little Keith followed with his eyes, scrunching up his nose a little before giving an answer._

_“Mars?”_

_“Yes!” The man ruffled his son’s hair before pointing at a different constellation. “And this here?”_

_“The Little Dipper?”_

_“Almost - The Big Dipper.”_

_“Dad, why do you like stars?”_

_“Why?” The man tilted his head, a trait Lance recognized in Keith. He looked up at the sky and elevated himself on his elbows before answering his son. “Maybe because I don’t know what’s there and I’m curious to see it. I would love to fly to them one day and see what they look like from up-close…”_

_“I can help you!” The tiny boy sat up with a serious expression. “I’ll become a pilot. And I’ll take you on a ride with me! I promise!” He pushed his pinky finger into the man’s face. The man smiled, linking their pinkies together._

_“Then it’s a promise.”_

_“Um!”_

_An older Keith sat on the floor with his knees up to his chin, covering his face, swollen from crying. The woman with purple hair caressed his back, but her cheeks also held traces of tears._

_“It’s okay, dear. We’ll get through it.”_

_“Why did he go there?” the boy asked through his tears, grabbing his mother’s black shirt with all the force of his tiny body. “Why didn’t anyone stop him?!”_

_“Because, just like you, he wanted to help someone and was too stubborn to listen to orders.”_

_“I’m not asking about d-dad! I’m asking about these people at the funeral. They didn’t care so why did they come?! Why are they looking at me like I need them?! I can take care of myself! I don’t want to cry into their shirts!”_

_“What about mine?”_

_“You’re my mom. You're an exception.”_

_Another day alone. The boy sat in a chair too big for him, a bowl of cereal in front of him. He kept stirring it with a spoon while glancing at the clock above the door. It read 7:30 pm._

_“She’s working late again…” The complaint sounded awfully resigned. The boy put the spoon into his mouth, chewing absentmindedly. “That’s the third time this week.”_

_He knew she had to do it in order to earn money for the mortgage on the house, but it didn’t reduce the pain in his chest._

_“Hey, Kogane - your father-” before the stranger could say anything more, Keith punched him in the face._

_“Don’t you dare speak about my father! You didn’t know him!”_

_“I-I’m sure he wouldn’t like you riding around on a motorbike!”_

_“Pft! As if you would know!” Keith spat his way, before hitting the gas pedal of his dad’s old bike. Just a few more parts and it would be like new. The boy and his friends looked at each other before one bravely spoke up._

_“But ... no one rides motorbikes here.” He said it like it was enough to change Keith’s mind. What did he care who did what? He did what he wanted._

_Keith looked into the mirror one more time at the red jacket he bought with Lance’s blessing, white trainers, the last black jeans he owned, and a brush in his hand, trying to make his hair look presentable. He eventually gave up with a sigh. On his way out he grabbed his travel bag, hanging it on one shoulder as he ran to the door._

_“Can your mother know where you’re going?”_

_“...” Keith halted for a moment, fighting the smile crawling onto his face. He half turned back, answering with the cheeriest voice Lance had ever heard him use. “Neo-Altea.”_

_“I see. Will you be back for supper?”_

_“Hopefully not,” he replied, running out with a hopeful smile and light steps, as though a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders._

_Next came a kaleidoscope of trains and scenery before Keith finally got off at a station Lance recognized: Grand Central Neo-Altea. Keith had used the money he earned from repairing cars to come see him, the sacred stash no one was allowed to touch. He wanted to meet him!_

_Lance felt like his heart was about to stop and burst at the same time. He watched Keith’s struggles to find him. He rode across the whole city, into the places Lance loved visiting. The coffee shops. Cinemas. Arcades. The kindergarten from which he would pick his nephew up._

_“Come on, Lance. Where are you?”_

_The hours passed, but nothing changed. They didn’t meet. Regardless, Keith kept looking for him, for so long that he got blisters on his feet. Only now Lance noticed that the shoes weren’t worn out like the ones Keith usually had but were a new pair. It was almost like he hoped Lance would compliment him._

_Purple eyes looked up, pupils enlarging upon noticing the last thing he expected. Quickly putting his shoes back on, Keith ran towards the bus. His feet hurt but he ignored the pain, pushing forward through the crowd of people. The bus doors shut the second he jumped inside. The space was even more cramped, with shoulders and bags sticking into his face. He still moved forward, trying his hardest to reach the person he wanted the most to see._

_He finally reached his destination, standing right in front of a boy with dark skin, blue eyes, and chestnut hair, browsing idly through something on his phone._

Is that...me?

_Keith cleared his throat once, then again, and one more time, getting no reaction whatsoever._

_“Lance?”_

_Still nothing. Lance wanted to scream at his younger self. Move. Look up. Do something. Anything. He came all this way. Why can’t you do anything?!_

_“Lance?” Keith tried again, louder this time. It caught younger Lance’s attention, enough to raise head and look back at him._

_“Yes?”_

_“It’s good to see you. In person, I mean.”_

_“O-Oh. I see.”_

_Keith sent him a shy smile, unaware of the truth of the situation. There was one last blissful second before Lance would hurt him with the worst possible sentence. The moment it happened, the older Lance felt an icy dagger pierce his chest._

_“Remind me, where we did meet?”_

_“Huh? It’s me.”_

_“ ‘Me’ who?”_

_And like chalk on a blackboard, that shy smile was wiped away, substituted with an angry and hurt expression._

_“Oh, so that’s how it is…”_

_Keith’s head dropped as Lance’s eyebrows rose in confusion. He didn’t recognize the boy standing in front of him, awkwardly adjusting the straps of his bag. How could he, since it was technically the first time they had met? The real Lance knew this, he understood, but it in no way reduced the sheer anger he felt at himself. How he wished to change everything he had just seen. There were no words strong enough in either of the languages he knew._

_The bus stopped abruptly and the crowd flowed out, taking with it the Keith’s numb body. Before he could get off, however, the familiar voice that he spoke in once every two or three days called out to him._

_“Hey, what’s your name?”_

_As the river of people pushed him outside, he managed to yell back right before the doors closed in front of his nose._

_“Keith! Keith Kogane! Don’t you dare forget it, idiot!”_

_“Welcome back, my long lost son,” Krolia sing-sang as she heard the doors opening and a familiar shuffle of feet. “How did it go?”_

_All that answered her was silence and sniffling. Worried, she turned to look at her son, who was red eyed with wet trails on his cheeks and dark spots on his shirt. Keith didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to for her to understand. Following her instincts, Krolia hugged her child, caressing his long dark hair with her painted purple nails._

_“I’m sorry, honey.”_

_The same man Allura had flirted with, but younger, stood in a park with a few girls and Shiro, chatting carelessly until they noticed Keith heading their way. As soon as they did their smiles faded, immediately noticing the gloomy look Keith was sporting._

_“What happened?” Always worried, Shiro asked first, squeezing Keith’s arm. The only answer he got was the angry look of a wounded animal and a wordless grunt._

_“I presume,” Lotor said, looking more closely at his crumpled clothes, “that he was turned down.”_

_“Oh,” exhaled Ezor, taking a closer look at his face. Her long hair jumped with every step and the smell of urtica shampoo itched his nose. Lance had probably been the one to recommend it. “Poor thing.”_

_“Wants me to beat him up?!” suggested Zethrid, cracking her knuckles._

_Keith shook his head and sniffed one more time, because the shampoo really did have an incredibly strong smell, before speaking._

_“Forget it. Let’s just go to the planetarium.”_

_The auditorium in the planetarium was monstrous, with enough seats to fit two thousand people and more. Keith couldn’t be here with everyone he wanted and his heart still hurt but maybe, just maybe, looking at the stars his father loved would help ease the pain. Just then the comet crashed through the screen above his head, leaving behind only a brilliant white tail split in two. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, right before the ground under his feet was snatched away and the silhouettes of stars rained down, falling upon him._

_This was the last thing Lance saw, marking the end of the life of a boy known as Keith Kogane._

His head hurt badly, as well as his tailbone, but Lance ignored the physical pain, too preoccupied with the memories he had witnessed. He saw with his own eyes how Keith had lived and how he died. This wasn’t what he meant when he had asked to see him one more time, but divine beings seemed to have their own cruel sense of humor.

He looked down at the box which held Keith and Shiro’s hair, no longer hidden in the dirt, the only thing left to remember them by.

Shiro never left to become a teacher in the fancy school he mentioned.

Keith never became a pilot to get closer to the stars and to his father.

All of this was just a heartless joke. Lance could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

“If only I could go back and change this…”

Caressing the box, Lance tried to prepare himself to leave. There was nothing left to do. But he simply couldn’t get up because he knew that once he stood up, this story would end, and he wasn’t ready to turn the page. He was there so long that he eventually fell asleep, exhausted.

Maybe it was his stubbornness, his unwillingness to let go of his feelings, and his determination to protect others that granted him one more wish.

~*~

*Beep*Beep*

The phone rang mercilessly, nagging him to wake up. He knew the idea of setting an alarm during vacation was stupid. Why did he do that?!

Wait … he never did that. If an alarm was beeping then it meant -

With the speed of a cheetah, he ran to the bathroom mirror. A pale face with dark eyes and messy hair stared back in shock.

“I … I … I’m Keith again!”

In disbelief, Lance brushed his fingers through the long hair on his head. It wasn’t a dream! He would recognize that mullet anywhere! No one else had hair this soft and thick and in need of serious styling.

“Keith?” Krolia, whose familiar features warmed Lance’s heart, peeked inside the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

“I have a mullet!” Lance answered through tears, pulling on it. “Isn’t it wonderful?!”

She didn’t say a word, just closed the door, mumbling behind it about how she ‘doesn't understand puberty’ and ‘maybe he needs therapy, after all’.

_Okay! This time I won’t let anything bad happen! I’ll save your stupid mullet, Mullet!_

_~*~_

Cold. Wet. Windy.

Everything made him shiver. Where had he ended up, to feel this frozen and with his teeth clattering and his toes numb?

Keith stood up from the mud, getting a good look at the scenery. He recognized this tree, which meant he was still close to Marmora. One look at his hands convinced him that he had switched bodies but that didn’t explain why Lance was … here. He clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

Keith turned around, only to feel his legs give out as he noticed what was below the hill.

“The town … it’s gone.”

From his memories emerged a flash of a ceiling crashing down on him and glowing lights. He was smart enough to connect the dots.

“I… at that time … I died?”

He didn’t want to turn it into a question - he was sure of this hypothesis. His emotions, however, weren’t so easily convinced to relent, fear and shock coursing through him.

As he observed the ruins of the place in which he had grown up, the phone rang. Keith pulled it out of one of the many pockets in Lance’s green-brown jacket, pushing the green button after a quick glance at the contact name: **_ABUELA._**

“Yes?”

 _“Are you there?”_ asked the familiar voice of elderly women, but strangely it didn’t hold any kindness he remembered. Did something happen at the McClain house and that’s why Lance ended up here?

“I just said-”

“ _You don’t have to pretend to be mi nieto anymore.”_

“Huh?”

_“You’re the person Lance always dreams about, right?”_

“W-What do you mean-?!” To say Keith was surprised was an understatement. He was so sure the two of them hid their secret perfectly, maybe with exception of few slip ups. Not to mention no one would believed something straight out of the anime would happen in real life. Was Lance serious when he said she was ‘spiritually sensitive’? That was supposed to be a joke! “How-?!”

“ _I noticed right away. I went through this when I was younger, too. Legend says that almost everyone in the Serrano family does. Some even claim it changed history, though few remember.”_

 _“_ R-Really?!” That was normal? And Lance didn’t dared to tell him?! God _damnit it,_ now he was even more angry. And why it happened to be especially him?! Couldn’t Lance pick up someone else to ruin their life?!

_“Yes, my dear, but you have to wake up. Your dream must come to an end.”_

Okay, now Keith was lost. He wasn’t asleep, they just switched places during dreams. Was there some meaning behind he wasn’t aware of? He should have listened more to the folklore bullshit. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

_“There’s nothing there, in the place where you once belonged. That’s what the bones and dice say. You have to let go.”_

He knew it. He was looking at it. The town he hated, where the people he loved lived. Was even anyone alive? He didn’t know. Maybe he’ll never know. Once he and Lance switch, he’ll probably be dead once again. But he was alive right now, and no one could tell him what to do with it. He was his own person who would never bend to anyone’s expectations.

 _“_ What would you even know about it?!”

_“The bones-”_

“I don’t care what some stupid bones say!” Keith cut her off harshly, tired of hearing things he either didn’t understand or didn’t make sense. “I don’t care what anyone says, to be honest. But I do care about saying the right words and I won’t, what did you call it? _wake up_ until I tell them to Lance!”

_“But-”_

“I’m off,” Keith said, pushing the red button. If he could switch bodies with Lance despite his apparent death, then he could still talk to him and maybe punch him in the face for breaking his heart. Oh, just you wait, Lance. Keith’s left hand wanted blood.

~*~

Lance put all his brain cells to work trying to avoid the upcoming catastrophe. The only problem was that he had no idea how to do it.

In his defense, he had never had to worry about something this dire. Hiding presents from the prying eyes of his nephew and niece was the closest he had ever come to something like this. And then, he had the help of other people! Here, he could only count on himself.

“Spit it out.”

With the grace of a six-year-old girl, Lance let out a high-pitched scream and jumped, jolting the calm of the lazy park. Lotor looked at him with concern, strands of long hair even slicker than he remembered them.

“D-Don’t sneak up on people! What are you, a Middle East assassin?!”

“That was racist.”

“I’m not white - I can make that joke.”

Before he knew what was happening, another attack came from behind, almost pushing his body to the ground.

“Fluffy hair~!” Ezor hugged his neck, wrapping long legs around his waist. “Where are you going today?”

“I...Sorry! I have, um, _things_! Very important _things_ to do! Yes!”

Lotor exchanged a look with the gymnast, the act suspicious enough to make them suspect that something was going on. It always made Lance wonder how Lotor could smell conspiracy, despite Lance’s perfect acting skills.

“Ezor, keep him down,” he ordered coldly, without batting an eye.

“Okay,” she agreed, much too cheerfully for Lance’s liking. The girl squeezed him even tighter, not allowing him to move and starting to cut off his air supply.

“Let me go!” he tried to say but it sounded more like “eh ie hou”. Lotor understood it though, another thing Lance wondered at. Maybe they were just mob boss heir things…

“Not until you tell us why you are acting as if someone was dying, at the very least.”

“Funny you said it like that…”

The three seconds of silence felt like hours while Ezor and Lotor tried to wrap their minds around his words. Lotor was the first to speak up, while Ezor lessened her grip on him.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you heard that an earthquake is coming? A really bad one?”

“So?”

“What if I told you … that we’d disappear because of it?”

***

“One more time, please.” Lotor twirled his hand around in the air, looking at Lance like he was deciding just how insane the guy was. Lance didn’t blame him. “You had a conversation with some amateur scientists and they revealed to you that our entire town might perish due to this earthquake?”

“I mean - yes?”

_Please let it work. Please let it work. Please let it work. Please -_

“Not a single one of my Father’s underlings mentioned it during yesterday's meeting,” Lotor said, stroking his chin. “I doubt they would cover up something so big. His empire would crumble, with him below it.”

“Didn’t he mention a new base?” Ezor chirped, her long hair waving. “Remember? A month or so ago?”

“You’re right, but sacrificing the entire town for a new base? It’s insane.”

_Oh thank the gods, they’re going to help. Pidge, Hunk, thank you for running a blog and giving me, the unworthy, a scrap of your knowledge! How else I would know about seismic areas?!_

“Sooo, does anyone have a plan or ...?” Lance asked, hoping he was surrounded by people smarter than him.

“Oh, oh, oh! I do!”

“Ezor?”

“Distract everyone and move them to the outskirts of town!”

“But how?”

“Uh... I didn’t think of that part…”

“I may happen to have an idea,” Lotor said as he pulled out his car keys. If the situation was different, Lance would have definitely laughed upon noticing the purple robot keychain. “First, we have to break into my garage.”

***

“I need to know,” Lance cursed after banging his little toe into a wrench, or some other piece of garage junk, “does every evil mob boss have a secret base full of cars?”

“Only the ones with a big enough ego, or the crazy rich ones.”

“Which one is your father?”

“I am not sure myself.”

“Found it!” Ezor announced next to a set of doors hidden in the wall. They all rushed over, prying them open. They wouldn’t have accomplished it if not for Zethrid. Lance would have to thank her later. Inside sat a blimp with a weird logo on it.

“Now, we only need Acxa to spread the news.”

“Yay! Chaos time!” announced Ezor with a little bounce. Zethrid patted her head and sent a deathly glare at Lance for noticing. Well, it wasn’t like he could help it - they were standing right in front of him.

~*~

“Once again,” Acxa raked through her hair with black nails before glaring at the party standing in front of her house, “you want to take my radio system -”

“Yeah -”

“and install it into your father’s blimp to transmit some sort of alert -”

“Yes, I suppose so -”

“so that everyone will leave the area, because of an earthquake that hasn’t started yet?”

“Yes?”

Dark eyes dug deeply into Lance and he didn’t know what to do. Yes, he was aware that his story had gaping holes haphazardly sewn together with thick branch-like threads, but it was all that he had. No one was going to believe that he was from the future and had seen that almost everyone here was dead.

“If you didn’t want to go to the planetarium, you should have just said so.”

***

While they were preparing to launch their plan, Lance’s eyes made the mistake of glancing over the horizon and seeing that hill with the tree. It was stupid, but he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat, wondering how Keith was doing at that very moment, on the same hill, in his body. He was probably cursing a lot.

“You want people to go there?” Lotor followed his gaze, startling Lance.

“N-No.”

“...”

“...”

“You’re thinking about him?”

“... yes.”

“You know what they say, that hill is the home to the spirits of lovers.” Was it? Lance was sure Shiro said otherwise. Curse you, unreliable sources of local folklore! “If what you say is true, you should hurry up and help us so you can show it to that guy.”

“...” Lance continued to look at the hill, long enough for a crazy idea to form in his mind. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Wha-?!” Before Lotor could comment any further, Lance sprinted down the street towards the mechanic’s garage. Ezor’s yells and Zethrid’s threats became more and more distant with each step he took.

He opened the garage with keys attached to a keychain shaped like a red mechanical cat. Keith had weird hobbies. The black motorcycle with red and white contours glistened in the light of the sunset.

“He did it…” Lance muttered in shock, smile overtaking his lips. “He finished his edgy bike.” Carefully, as though it was made of glass and not metal, Lance caressed the machine. It looked old but good enough to ride. “Okay, let’s test this baby.”

Cracking his knuckles, Lance jumped onto the seat and pushed down the pedal. The bike jumped to life, almost hitting the wall and pushing him off. It didn’t stop him, however. He somehow managed to find his way through the town, only occasionally destroying a lawn or some ugly garden figures. Nothing to worry about - and he did it without a helmet! Holy shit, he didn’t wear a helmet - he was disappointing his mother!

By some sort of miracle, he managed to get to the hill. It was as high as Lance remembered it, a great sign that his memory wasn’t as bad as he thought. His legs carried him to the top before he had even given it a thought. That turned out not to be such a good idea. Running is one thing, but running towards the hill’s peak with everything he had? The sweat ran down his neck and Keith’s long hair kept sticking to his skin. And he was in a body of a jock! Cursed may you be, physical exertion.

_I know it’s stupid! I have no reason to think so - but, please! Let Keith be there! I just want to meet him once. Just once, to apologize._

Lance managed to get on top of the hill, tired and soaked with sweat, with mud on his jeans, but he managed. He looked down at the still-intact town and the long line in front of the planetarium, from his viewpoint looking like a giant snake. It was now up to Lance to save them all, and by extension, Keith.

Speaking of mullets, he looked around hopefully but didn’t see a single soul beside him. Just a beautiful view of the sunset.

“Keith!” Stubbornly clutching his last hope, Lance called the other’s boy name, but only silence and wind replied. His eyes once again drifted towards the horizon. The sun had just disappeared behind the line of the edge of the world but its light still reached him. The end of the day but not yet night - twilight.

Lance realized his wish was just like the sun, dead but refusing to fully disappear, letting him hope for its eventual realization.

Orange once again basked the city and grass, softening and lengthening the scenery, but this time it would soon change to darkness. The day accepted its end. Lance should also accept that he and Keith would never meet. The only thing he could do now was helping the guy survive.

“Twilight, huh?” Lance finally commented, his body fatigued. “You had a word for that … you loved writing down everything Shiro said. I bet you could wake up in the middle of the night and recite it from memory.” Lance rubbed the corners of his eyes, feeling the familiar itch of tears. For such a tough guy, Keith’s body was sure sensitive. Another thing he had come to appreciate about the boy. ”What was it? Kanadare-doki?”

“Kataware-doki.”

Lance went still, not believing what his ears registered, before turning his head towards the familiar voice. It was raspy and low but painted with concern underneath. A voice he used to speak so many times before but never heard up until now.

He eventually turned to his left, only now noticing the boy standing just a few steps from him. The body he had spent so long inside was there, within reach. It was as if he was staring in the mirror again, but this time it was no reflection.

A young boy in his late teens. Just a head shorter than Lance. Long black hair and thick eyebrows. Big, violet eyes decorated with incredibly long eyelashes. Pale skin. Permanent frown. Square jaw with high cheekbones.

Keith was standing right in front of him. Not in Lance’s body. Not talking to him through email. The one and only Keith Kogane, flesh and blood, stood in front of him. Finally where he could touch him with his own, brown hands - the ones belonging to Lance.

“Lance…”

“Hey, man.” Lance said softly, waving his hand in greeting and smiling shyly. “I came to see you. Not gonna lie, it was pretty hard to get he-”

Before Lance could say anything more, Keith decided it was the perfect time to kick him in the shin. Hard. Probably leaving a bruise. He did train in the martial arts for a reason.

“Ouch! What was _that_ for?!”

“That’s for ignoring me!”

“I didn’t know you then!”

“ _How_ dare _you-_ ”

“I’m sorry!” Lance shrieked, covering his face with his arms in hopes of protecting it from Keith’s rage. He refused to accept it was meaningless, even though Keith could break his nose through them without breaking a sweat. “I’ve tried to reach you, but it was hard, man!”

Keith’s fist stopped mere centimeters from Lance’s covered face. He risked a peek, earning a confused look from his counterpart.

“...what?”

“Y’know, you’re pretty far away.” Lance let his arms fall to his sides, finally reassured that he wouldn’t be hit with a Raging Left Fist of Keith Kogane. “Like, two years from me. I’m sorry I’m late but it wasn’t easy!”

“So, the town…”

“Yep.”

“And I really…”

“You did. I’m currently trying to fix it.”

Keith was silenced, unable to say anything else. He was saved by Lance, who was reaching to his wrist for a red cord. “I promised to give you one,” he said as he tied back Keith’s hair with the elastic. “I’m a man of my words. Sorry it took this long.”

Keith was always impulsive, he knew. Nonetheless, what he did next came as a surprise even to him. Keith took the remaining steps forward, grabbed Lance by the jacket, and pulled, so he could kiss him. Long before he could register his actions, Keith was kissing a surprised but uncomplaining Lance. The kiss didn’t last long but it left both of them breathless and equally red, more noticeable on Keith’s lighter complexion.

“Wow, that was something.”

Keith jumped back, startled from his actions and ashamed of what he had just done. To hide how his hands had started shaking he put them in his pockets, finding the keychain with the Red Lion. Shiro had given it to him from his enormous collection of _GoLion_ goods and he had never felt the need to replace it. Now he pulled it out and gave to Lance.

“Equivalent exchange.”

“What?”

“You gave me something, I’m giving you something. This way you’ll never forget me again.”

Lance took the keychain with a giggle, ignoring how Keith tried to pulverize him with his eyes alone for it.

“Sorry. You should’ve seen your face.”

The sun was no longer visible and the remaining light was fading. In less than a minute it would be dark.

Lance reached into his pocket, pulling out a ballpoint pen and earning another quizzical look.

“When I can’t remember something, I write it down on my hand.”

“I know.”

Keith still didn’t let Lance forget how he couldn’t wash off his hands and forearms once when he had decided to use a pen to write, in his opinion, important info there. Or the time he had “FURY” on his forehead, but that was part of a prank war.

“Let’s write our names! This way there’s no chance we’ll forget.”

Before anything else could be said, Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and scribbled on it before closing his fingers to form a fist.

“Don’t peek yet! Your turn!”

Keith rolled his eyes but took Lance’s hand and the pen. The nib touched the skin of his palm, creating a perfectly straight line.

A straight line and nothing else. As soon as the light gave way to shadows, the figure of Lance disappeared, leaving Keith alone once again on the hill.

“Wha-Where is he?”

Keith whirled around, trying to find a trace of the teenager with dark skin and brown hair. Wait, was his hair really brown? Or just dark chocolate? Or auburn? Or chestnut? Maybe it was blond? Was the skin naturally dark or was he that tan? Oh, no. He forgot. Why? Why did he forget?! This person’s name - it was Lance. Lance. Okay, he remembers it. Lance, it was Lance. Everything was alright. He got it. He remembers. Nothing bad would happen to...to…

What was his name?!

_Right! Hand! He wrote his name!_

Keith opened his fist, looking down at the letters forming one sentence:

_I LOVE YOU_

Before he could stop them, tears streamed down his face. A few drops fell into his palm, smudging the ink.

_Idiot...I can’t remember your name with that…_

_~*~_

_Sometimes, when I wake up, I have tears in my eyes._

_Like leftovers from a dream I can never recall._

_But the sensation of a loss stays with me long after I wake up._

_It’s like - like I’m always searching._

_For something. Or for someone._

_I can’t really tell when it all happened. The strongest I felt it was probably during my trip with Pidge and Allura. After noticing how well she got along with this one guy I got jealous, as if i was still a brat in kindergarten, and ran away. I think I spent that night on a hill outside town. I eventually came back, but ever since then I itched with a strong urge for change._

_I ditched my old school in favor of a different one, where I could finally achieve something. Pidge and Hunk still hang out with me in our free time, which is even less these last days; they’re getting ready for some sort of contest and spend most of their time on some robot._

_Allura and I finally became friends. My crush on her died off, which both of us welcomed. She’s still dating the guy we met on that trip. I think he even proposed to her, mainly because she’s wearing a diamond ring._

_Rachel continued her art studies and works part time to pay for rent and to open her own gallery. Although at times, she gets awfully cranky. It’s as if she’s a totally different person (not to mention her weird penchant for cursing in French some days)._

_Veronica works as a detective now, and flirts with half of the police station. Although, she recently promised to bring someone to a family dinner, so who knows?_

_Me? I’m still wandering around, hoping and learning to become an astronomer. I don’t know why, but I feel like in the stars, I can find what I want; what I need. I sometimes wonder what, exactly, that might be…_

_~*~_

_Sometimes, when I wake up, I have tears in my eyes._

_Like leftovers from a dream I can never recall._

_But the sensation of a loss stays with me long after I wake up._

_It’s like - like I’m always searching._

_For something. Or for someone._

_To be honest, I don’t know what happened that day. For some reason, Lotor, the girls, and I made a fake announcement about an earthquake and led an evacuation. We didn’t have any proof or evidence of that but somehow we managed to save almost the entire town from catastrophe. Especially everyone who might have been at the planetarium, which turned out to have a lot of architectural defects. There were still casualties - for example, Shiro lost his arm. He jokes about it now, but back then it was a big enough deal to make him go partially gray.I got sliced up too, and to this day I have a scar across my face. Now we joke whose scar is cooler and I tease him about the new teacher at his work whom he’s trying to flirt with. I swear, when it comes to romance, Shiro has zero grace and the brain of a newborn._

_Lotor? He somehow found evidence against his father, which allowed the police to take Zarkon down and free the town from his clutches, leaving it on the shoulders of his heir. By the way, he found himself a nice girl from a rich family. If it goes any further, they’ll create a new company here, in Marmora. I saw her in some photos, she’s pretty but it’s weird that she dyes her hair completely white._

_Acxa went to the police academy, mainly because she got to hold a gun, but also to keep everyone in order. Ezor thinks that the fact that the police still use shortwave radio might also have played a role. No matter the reason, she sent many previous associates of the Galra to jail - the group that Lotor’s father used to rule. She also has a girlfriend, a latina named Veronica or something. I’m not sure._

_Ezor and Zethrid packed up and went on a long journey, only to now host a lot of events and talk about their travels. And how many fights they picked on the way, and of course how they won them. Never underestimate a wall of muscles supported by an inhumanely flexible gymnast. I heard they were considering buying a small house with a field to grow pumpkins, but I honestly doubt that. They love seeing world from every angle too much to possibly settle down now._

_What I am doing?_

_I’m studying, most of the time. From time to time I call my friends but we don’t have enough time to sit down for a coffee and talk. I’ve gone on a few dates, had a few boyfriends, but none of it lasted for long. Most of them can’t keep up with my mood swings. But I don’t care - I only know that if I can keep it up, I’ll soon get my pilot’s license. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone else beside my dad up in the sky._

_~*~_

The sky was a lovely shade of blue that day, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. Most likely because the tall buildings of Neo-Altea obscured it to those way down below. The streets were still wet from yesterday’s rain but the crowds didn’t mind it and continued with their daily tasks.

On a train station platform, a tall boy checked the messages on his phone. His eyes, blue as the sky above, scanned the screen, and he glanced up every once in a while to check for his train. The blue piercing on top of his left ear reflected the light, creating small rainbow. When the train finally arrived, he adjusted his bag, it’s Red Lion keychain swinging wildly, and jumped inside. The most striking part of his outfit, red trainers, soon mingled with the crowd. The feelings of nostalgia were even stronger for him today. As usual, he only half-cared about the view outside, more focused on what he would eat for dinner.

The scenery of neighborhoods and trees disappeared suddenly as another train rushed by. It was a normal occurrence, a mundane facet of everyday life in a big city. However, in that very moment, his eyes locked with a man on the passing train. It was a man with large violet eyes, a red scar across his right cheek, and long, black hair tied into a ponytail with a red cord. A silver necklace, the logo of the rock band _Blades,_ shone with reflected sunlight, specks of light dancing on a black jacket with a Japanese symbol on its forearm.

The universe was trying to tell them something, but it didn’t need to. Recognition stretched across both faces. In that moment, both of them thought the same thing.

_You! It was you I was looking for!_

But as much as they wanted to, they couldn’t reach each other. Two walls of train neatly separated them, leaving the boys blind and deaf, reliant on their their silent prayers. Their trains moved in opposite directions, leaving them yearning for one another from afar.

However, both of them were remarkably stubborn. As soon as their respective trains reached the next station, the two jumped out and ran in the direction they last seen each other. It was a difficult sprint through narrow streets, crowds, and across absently located crosswalks that must have been put there by someone lacking designs talent.

Eventually they stopped in front of each other, separated only by a gate. They continued to stare at one another without making a move, suddenly hesitant. Eventually, one of them moved his feet forward and the other couldn’t help but reciprocate. When they were close enough to brush a shoulder and perhaps talk, they turned away, ignoring the other to go their separate ways.

The universe, however, would cry with black tears if that were to happen. Besides, the raw, emotional pull between them was too magnetic to allow it. One of them turned around, his keychain jittering from the sudden movement.

“Hey!” called the blue-eyed boy, stopping the other. “Haven’t we … met before?”

The ponytailed boy spun around, his violet eyes welling up with tears. “Yeah … I thought so too.”

They stared at one another as the spring sun continued shone down upon them, almost as if it was smiling. They eventually opened their mouths, ready to ask a question that had languished for far too long without an answer.

“Hey…

...What’s your name?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You survived! Did you find all the reference that I hid there? Or maybe you just stuck to say how much it sucks? Whatever the reason, keep your comments civil.


End file.
